Scars
by Griff4823
Summary: The civil war between the Dramon Empire and the Rebels of the Harmonious Republic has ended and a Spinomon named Strom is trying to deal with the price it took to win. However, there are some who still want revenge. What will prevail? War? Or peace?
1. Part 1: Wounds

Author's notes:

This takes place in the Digimon: Civil War and Digimon: Dark Reign universe and is a sequel to my one-shot called "Strom" as well as a sequel and prequel to Civil War and Dark Reign respectively. However, this fic is going to be more or less self-enclosed, meaning that you don't necessarily need to read the RPGs in order to understand what's going on (however, it would definitely help. And it would help a lot of if "Strom" was read first.) This was originally going to be a short story, but it ended up being so long that I was forced to make it into a short fic. This was written more for myself since I didn't get to have an epilogue post in Civil War and I'm having a blast writing it.

Disclaimer: Mostly all of the characters in this belong to me. The few that don't belong to the people who RP'd in Civil War. Now, without further ado...

Rated 14A for blood, violence, swearing and mature themes.

**Scars**

_**Part 1**_

The setting sun cast a warm, orange glow across the sands of the island sitting in the water, off the shores of the blood-stained beach. It was that beach where the Dramon Empire and the united Rebels clashed in battle for the final time. That fateful battle brought about the end of the Civil War. The Civil War: the bloody war of oppression and expansion by the Dramon Empire. The Rebels of Harmonious Republic had remained persistent in their resistance of the Dramon Empire. Their dream was freedom and equality for all.

And now, the higher-ups of the Dramon Empire were dead from the massive battle. Imego, the usurper of the leadership of the Dramon Empire, was also slain. Gog-Magog, the prophetic beast of the world's end who was summoned by Imego, was killed as well.

Peace and freedom was restored at last and the world still lived and breathed...

The Avengers, the elite team who spearheaded the rebellion in its closing months, and ultimately brought to the Rebels to victory, were now becoming leaders to help the world find its way again. With the war only just ended, it would not be an easy task...

The surf calmly washed up on the coast's sand before shrinking back into the sea, leaving previously golden sand a dull brown colour as the water passed over it. The light blue liquid, unlike the nearby ground, showed no signs of battle and destruction. Water was a paradox; it remained constant in its ever-changing form.

One Avenger sat alone, looking out over the beautiful and calm ocean, wondering how it could be so peaceful when a horrific battle was waged not one hundred meters away from it. The bulky, twenty foot, dinosaurian body of a Spinomon was seated in the warm sand on the beach's shore. The sun reflected off his metal sail and cast light onto his tough, orange hide, giving his sweat-laced scales a bright shimmer.

Strom paid no attention to what took place behind him, on the former battlefield. The Dramon had surrendered and the united forces of the Rebels and their allies were sorting them out. There were thousands upon thousands of digimon walking around, reporting to their unit, finding medics for the wounded, watching over a group of Dramon prisoners, and so on.

The Spinomon cared not for those matters at that moment. The past two days had been incredibly taxing on him physically, mentally, and especially emotionally. Strom sighed lightly as his golden eyes continued looking out over the sea, towards the setting sun.

"Strom!" a commanding yet informal and light-hearted voice called out.

The digimon in question turned his head and looked down, his eyes darting around for the owner of the familiar voice. Strom saw the human-like form of a Justimon, who was garbed in a tight-fitting blue and white suit and a long red scarf which was draped like a cape, walking over to him. Strom instantly recognized him as Commander Braon, one of the three generals of the Rebel forces and Strom's closest friend.

"There you are! I was wondering where you went off to. With all the dinosaurs from the Palaeozoic Sovereignty tromping around, you were like finding a needle in a haystack," Braon said, grinning.

Strom offered a slight smirk out of the corner of his mouth and promptly turned back forwards, gazing out over the water in silence. The dinosaur took to his thoughts and the smirk he forced soon disappeared, curving down back into a frown.

"...Strom?" the Justimon asked, looking at him curiously. Strom closed his eyes and bowed his head while shifting his face away from Braon. The commander frowned and circled around so that he stood in front of the Spinomon. "Okay, what's wrong?" he asked in a way that demanded an answer.

The large dinosaur sighed and opened his eyes, staring down at his currently only friend. "Ragna, Rai, Valra and Karasu are all dead..." he said in miserable voice.

Braon, surprised, opened his mouth to respond but ended up closing his mouth and sneering. He clenched his metal fist and turned, wanting to take his anger out on something. Unable to find anything suitable to lash out at, he took a long, deep breath and sighed. "Damnit..." he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"So am I..." Strom said. He looked at the two bloody wounds on his left hand that he received when handling Ragna's Wyrmflame sword. They still burned with pain, a pain which intensified when he clasped his fist shut. "But now he'll never know..."

Commander Braon turned and looked at Strom. "Who?"

Strom grimaced and dug his fist into the sand, deep enough to feel the grains dampen with water. "Ragna," he answered sadly. "You know how badly I treated him, Braon... I was suspicious of him ever since I joined the Rebels. And after the failed assassination on the Three Great Dramon, I accused him of being the traitor outright... "

"Strom..." Braon said sympathetically. He walked closer to him and placed his hand on the Spinomon's knee. "I was as surprised as you were when we found out that Goliath was not only alive but also the traitor. Yeah, you were wrong, but you couldn't have known for sure..."

"Please, Braon... Don't," he said, shutting his eyes. "Don't make excuses for me. I'm an idiot... It's no wonder Ranney did what he did. I don't know how you put up with m- AHH!" Strom suddenly roared as a blunt metal fist struck him across the face and sent him crashing down onto the sand.

Commander Braon landed on the ground and stared at him firmly. He cracked the knuckles of his cybernetic hand and then folded his arms. Strom scrambled to a sitting position and put his wounded claw to his throbbing face. "What was that for, Commander?" he snapped, drawing attention from a few nearby soldiers.

"To knock that crap out of you," Braon growled sternly. "Yeah, you made a mistake. A particularly big one. Do you think that self-deprecation is going to make it all better? You _are_ flawed, Strom, but so is everybody. I happen to know for a fact that you're a good friend underneath that tough, scaly and prickly exterior, so don't kid yourself otherwise."

"Commander," Strom said in shock. He sighed and removed his claw from his face, revealing a smear of blood on his cheek. Braon was surprised at the sight of the crimson fluid since he was sure he didn't break scales with his punch. Strom then winced as he loosened his hand, feeling a strong burning sensation run through his wounds. The Justimon looked down and noticed the large gashes in Strom's palm.

"You're hurt," Braon observed, walking over to him and grabbing his claws in order to inspect his palm.

"It's just a cut, Commander," Strom replied dismissively.

"So I guess you don't mind walking to the medical station without my help then," the commander said with a grin.

Strom sighed and reluctantly stood to his feet. "I can never win against you, can I?" he asked in defeat.

"Nope! Luckily for you I have your best interests in mind," he replied with a small chuckle, leading the Spinomon off the beach and towards the nearby fields where the military was still organizing.

"Luckily for me, indeed," Strom murmured with sarcasm clear in his voice.

The Justimon commander led Strom through the frankly unorganized ranks, shouting out orders to any rebel that he passed. Everything was a chaotic mess. There were dinosaurs who meshed with insects who were surrounded by celestials who were flanked by Garurumon who were adjacent to several Greymon and so on. It was an organizational nightmare, especially now that the Rebel's leaders, Apollo and Artemis, were now dead.

"Take those prisoners over there with the others," Braon said to a MegaKabuterimon before turning to somebody else. "You, MetalGreymon, go take your forces over to Onaga and regroup near that tree." He then glanced at an angry-looking Gargomon who was nearing a group of prisoners. "You! Don't even _think_ about harming our POWs!"

Strom watched the commander bark out orders as he continued walking through the battlefield. "...I'd help you out, Commander, but I sort of like having the flesh in my throat not permanently shredded," he said, managing to retain a small smile.

"You're a dinosaur; I thought you'd jump at the chance to destroy your vocal cords through yelling!" Braon teased, chuckling. "And hey! You're my protégé _and_ my subordinate; I order you to help me with this mind-numbing mess!"

"So sorry. I can't," Strom replied, holding up his bleeding claw to get out of the delegated task. "I'm wounded and have to go to the medical station-hey! Wait a minute!" The Spinomon realized that he had fallen right into Braon's ploy of getting him to willingly get his wound checked out.

The Justimon smirked and folded his arms. "You're not much of a tactician; you fell right into my trap," he laughed. Braon directed Strom to several big white tents which were hitched up over the grass. "The medical station is over there, big guy. Go to the one that can fit you. I'll be with you as soon as I get some semblance of order here... And please, don't give the doctors any trouble this time."

"That's entirely up to them," the dinosaur answered with an indignant grumble.

Commander Braon grinned and shook his head before running over to Commander Arahon Alpha, the only other high ranking Rebel around. Meanwhile, Strom slogged over to the massive tents, inside of which he heard groans and growls of pain. The Spinomon took in a deep breath, though instead of the fresh air that he was hoping for, he inhaled smoke and residual vapours still lingering from the massive battle.

He coughed and gave an unamused growl before walking in the large tent, where he towered over many of the doctors and patients. One of the doctors, a Guardromon, approached him. Strom looked down at him, immediately recognizing him as one of the doctors from the Rebels of the Harmonious who took care of them on more than one occasion.

"Oh dear," he spoke, looking up at Strom. "You're injured too, are you? Come, lie down over here."

As he talked, the Avenger couldn't help but be reminded of times past...

/-/

"Oh, you're awake. Good," said the Guardromon, approaching Rai. "Here you go. Fresh bandages. I shall put them on you."

"Gah! Unhand me, Tinman!" the Rapidmon yelled.

\-\

Strom exhaled and narrowed his eyes, looking sadly down at the ground. Rai was dead. It was only yesterday that the rabbit digimon went about his light-hearted, if not hot-headed, antics and boasting. Strom half expected to turn around and be faced with one of Rai's insults about his weight, intelligence, species or all of the above but that wasn't to be.

It was Imego that killed him. He killed all of them... Rai, Karasu, Valra, and Ragna...

The Spinomon glowered and clenched his fist, causing blood to gush out from the cuts and trickle off of his knuckles. To him, Imego deserved a slow and excruciating death for each life that he took. Not just the lives of his friends, but every good digimon that he had killed. It incensed Strom that Gog and Magog killed him in the fraction on a millisecond... He wished years of pain upon that Dramon. Strom wanted him to suffer...

A searing pain ripped through Strom's palm and coursed up his arm, eliciting an audible grunt and a wince from the dinosaur. He looked down at his hand and noticed that it continued to bleed. The dinosaur couldn't help but become aware of a blue colouring around the edges of the gash.

"Strom? What are you waiting for?" the Guardromon asked, ushering him over to some open space in the tent between two wounded rebels.

"Uhh... Yeah, right," he murmured, trudging over and sitting down with noticeable pain.

"You are quite bruised, you realize," the robotic digimon observed.

"Just concentrate on the hand," Strom replied brusquely while pointing to the wound with his other set of claws.

The Guardromon looked down at the open lacerations and placed his hands on his hips. "I should be able to stitch that up, but they're pretty deep, so I can't promise there won't be scarring..."

"Get it over with. I don't care about scars. Now it might be hard to tell, but I'm kind of used to them," he said sardonically, gesturing to the two giant scars on his chest from when he was tortured.

"But of course," the doctor said, collecting bandages and the stitching materials they had access to. Strom winced as the Guardromon began to run the durable needle through his tough yellow scales while holding the bandage to his slashes to staunch the flow of blood.

It was then when Commander Braon walked in, approaching Strom and the Guardromon. "How many wounded do you have, Doc?" he asked, looking around the tent.

"Too many, Sir," the Guardromon replied sadly. "And that's not including Dramon. We need more doctors and supplies. We just don't have enough."

"I'll see what I can do..." Braon said with a sigh. "What a mess. If I had known all of it would be this much trouble, I might have reconsidered rebelling in the first place," he joked. Unbeknownst to him, it wasn't exactly in the best taste.

Strom shifted in his place uncomfortably, and several surrounding wounded soldiers glanced over at the Justimon, disenchanted by the comment. "Commander..." the Guardromon said incredulously.

Braon looked at him with confusion initially. He then glanced around at some of the other digimon, perceiving their reactions. Soon after, it hit him. "...Oh! I – uhh - ...I didn't mean..." he stammered, sheepishly scratching his cheek with his finger. "I was just joking. Heheh... You see... Oh boy." He sighed in defeat and sat down beside Strom. "You're supposed to stop me when my mouth gets ahead of my brain."

"Don't worry. Any faux pas you make, I'm sure I've done worse... I'm not exactly socially tactful, in case you haven't noticed," Strom answered, grimacing as the Guardromon continued working on his hand.

"Really? I had no idea..." Braon answered, grinning.

Strom rolled his eyes in reply. "Are you here to check up on me?"

"Partially," the Justimon answered. "Even Commanders need a breather, sometimes... Arahon's got Ajax, Onaga, Valkur, Osiris, Gapsar and Karmas running around to try and help with the organizing. I'm surprised he didn't call on you too."

"I'm not that surprised," Strom replied, looking away as the Guardromon tightened the stitches, sealing the wounds on his palm closed.

"We're just simple soldiers," Braon said, glancing out the open flap of the massive tent. "With our leaders gone, not only Apollo and Artemis, but Valdur, the Olympians and the Dramon's higher ups too, things are going to be pretty hectic. I don't know about you, but I'm used to looking at a battlefield, not a complex mess of bureaucracy and 'the bigger picture'."

The dinosaur nodded his head and looked down. "Yeah, I feel the same..."

"...However, I know that my job in the near future is going to be a big one and I'm going to have to deal with it."

Strom glanced over to look at Braon just as the Guardromon tied the bandage around his hand. "Are you suggesting something, Commander?" he asked. Before Braon could respond, a MagnaAngemon came over and began working his _Magna Antidote_, which began to close Strom's wound. After that, the robotic medic inspected the lacerations a final time. Strom picked up on the curious look in the Guardromon's eyes as they gazed at the wound.

"Well, you're all done here," the Guardromon said, backing up and putting his hands on his metallic hips. "Would you be so kind as to leave so that we can make room for more wounded?"

Strom nodded and got to his feet with a strained growl. "No rest for the weary..."

Commander Braon grinned and stood up as well, stretching upon getting to his feet. "Yup," he said, beginning to lead Strom out of the tent. He looked to the other soldiers in the tent. "Stay strong, guys. Good job today, all of you."

"Don't move your hand if you can help it, Strom. The tissue hasn't healed," the Guardromon called after him. "And there was one more thing... I noticed something abnormal with the collagen, that is, the scarring. I'm afraid there will, in fact, be scarring and there's something... odd about it."

Strom stopped and turned around. "How so?" he asked. He then glanced down at his palm and peeled back the blood-stained bandage. "What in the-... It's... blue! ...Tch. Of course it is," Strom said with a sigh. "This could only happen to me..."

"What does that mean, Doc?" Braon asked.

"I am not entirely sure," the Guardromon admitted. "I am pretty sure it is nothing dangerous. My best guess is that there was some sort of data alteration from whatever weapon cut him."

"The Wyrmflame?" Strom whispered, remembering Ragna's face along with the blazing blue flames of the sword. He also remembered cutting his hand when picking up the sword after the Dynasmon's death. "But why?"

"I am not sure... It is probably temporary. Do not bother yourself with it," he insisted.

"Gee thanks," Strom muttered. "Yeah, I'll lull myself into a false sense of security until my arm begins to mutate or turn inside out or something and I become a monster. Terrific idea, Doc."

The Guardromon rolled his eyes and moved onto his next patient, leaving Strom and the commander alone. Braon walked alongside Strom and couldn't help but notice that the dinosaur looked concerned. He grinned and placed his hand on the Spinomon's arm. "Heh, don't worry, Strom. Just look on the bright side. Like I said: chicks dig scars."

Strom blinked and a small grin formed on his face. "That has yet to be proven," he answered, following the commander out of the tent and into fresh air and the dark orange sunset's light.

-

Night fell over the landscape, covering the fields with a silent darkness. All was quiet except for the calm sloshing of the surf against the nearby beach. The moon cast a blue hue across the land from its perch amongst the twinkling stars. Only a few wafts of smoke remained lingering from the battle. If it weren't for the battle damage on the land, one wouldn't have known a battle took place there several hours ago.

The Dramon prisoners were rounded up into several groups and watched over by several sentries. The guards, however, seemed more or less unnecessary. For the most part, the Dramon showed no wishes to continue fighting or try anything else dubious. Their command structure had been broken and after witnessing the unleashing of Gog and Magog, many began questioning Imego and his close comrades' sanity. Several were already turning against Imego when he ruthlessly destroyed several fellow dragons during the chaos that followed Arahon Alpha's failed execution. The Dramon prisoners slept out in the fields, finding themselves in the position the Rebels were in not long ago.

By nightfall, the united rebels were finally better organized. The Greymon Corps were in their own camp, the Leomon tribe in theirs and likewise with the Royal Hive, the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, and so on. The sounds of heavy breathing, light chatting and snores whispered against the dusk breeze.

That wind rustled the tattered branches of a tree sitting on a small hill overlooking the field. Sitting under the tree, leaning back against the trunk were two figures, one a large dinosaur digimon and the other a comparatively smaller humanoid digimon. The Spinomon and Justimon remained awake, staring up at the stars.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Braon asked from his relaxed stance with his hands resting behind his head.

Strom, who had to sit with his sail placed strategically beside the trunk, looked down at him curiously. "Hrm? What is, Commander?"

"Being able to finally sit out in the open like this. No more having to worry about being ambushed or followed back to headquarters. No more Dramon patrols. This is... freedom," he spoke.

Strom thought about it for a moment and nodded fondly. "I never really thought about it like that... It's hard to imagine."

Commander Braon grinned. "What a difference a day makes."

The Spinomon frowned and leaned his head back so that it rested against the trunk of the tree. His golden eyes narrowed as they stared up at the star-filled sky. "...Yeah..."

The Justimon looked up at him grimly and sighed. "Strom... I'm sorry about the others..."

Strom turned his head in the opposite direction. "Me too..." he said quietly. A blistering pain suddenly coursed through his wounded hand, right where the scars were placed. The dinosaur winced and brought his hand close to his chest.

The Justimon looked over curiously. "You okay?"

The Spinosaurus nodded. "Yeah... My cuts must still be healing..."

The two grew silent and continued gazing up at the glimmering night sky above. The stars flickered with an unspoken hope and solace. Both Strom and Braon could feel it lingering over their hearts.

Finally Strom broke the silence with a question he had for his friend. "Commander, can I ask you something? ...Why did you join the Rebellion? I mean, you're part Dramon, aren't you?"

Commander Braon looked up at Strom "Species doesn't mean anything. I knew that what the Three Great Dramon were doing was wrong. I have a heart of justice, Strom... This form of mine isn't just for good looks," he said with a slight grin. His disposition soon became serious again. "You joined for the same reason, didn't you? You were a dinosaur living in the neutral nation of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty and I was a dramon living in the Dramon Empire. Neither of us _had_ to rebel, but we chose to because we knew it was the right thing to do. Am I wrong?"

Strom shook his head contemplatively. "No... You're exactly right. To think... I persecuted Ragna for doing the exact same thing..."

"Blaming yourself is only going to make things worse," Braon explained. "Whatever happened is in the past."

"And we should move towards our future..." Strom murmured. Upon receiving a confused look from Braon, he decided to clarify. "It was something Ragna said to me. It made me think... He started to become my friend after all that I did to him. I wondered if I could do the same."

The Justimon smiled. "I know you can, Strom. You know as well as I do that you're a big softie underneath."

The orange reptile indignantly turned his head away. "I can't decide whether to be insulted or not..." Braon let out a chuckle, prompting a smirk from the dinosaur as well. Strom then turned back to the commander. "Uhh, Braon... I just wanted to say... thanks... for sticking by me all this time. And even for putting up with me. I know I'm not really easy to get along with," he said, his cheeks tinted red with embarrassment.

The Justimon raised his hand and gently patted Strom's forearm. "That's what friends do, Strom."

"Good friends, you mean," Strom corrected lowly.

Braon sighed and gave Strom's arm a final pat with his organic arm before removing it and placing it behind his head along with his cybernetic arm. "So, Strom... The war's over... I know what I'm going to be doing."

"What's that?" the dinosaur asked.

"_Long_ nap," he replied, smirking. "Then I guess it falls to me and the others to get this world in order."

"I don't envy you," Strom murmured as he looked back up at the stars longingly.

"What about you, Strom? What are you going to do now that there's no Dramon left to fight?"

The Spinomon didn't reply initially. He never really thought about it. Strom didn't really ever picture the war ending. He was at a loss.

"We need good leaders," offered Braon.

Strom chuckled to himself. "I'm not much of a leader... I'm more of a sarcastic, pessimistic, all-around unpleasant pain in the tail that the leaders hate," he replied.

Braon grinned. "Can't entirely argue with that... So what's your plan then? What are you going to do?"

Strom's smile slowly vanished. "I... don't know." His head bowed and his eyes were drawn towards the ground once again. "I don't have anywhere to go..."

"What are you talking about? You literally have the whole world now," the Justimon insisted.

"But I don't..." Strom answered solemnly. "I cut my ties with the Paleozoic Sovereignty when I left to join the Rebels. But with the Rebels... I never really belonged either. I don't have a home to go to."

"King Aegyptu isn't harbouring any ill-feelings towards you, Strom. I talked to him awhile ago," the humanoid digimon explained.

"I can't go back!" insisted the dinosaur angrily. His shouting prompted some annoyed swears from a few of the sleeping digimon in the field below.

Commander Braon remained calm and studied his face carefully. "This is about Ranney, isn't it?" Strom let out a subconscious growl inside his throat, inadvertently supplying Braon with his answer. "You're going to have to face him sometime, Strom."

"I know..." Strom spoke softly but with reluctance in his voice. "I know I have to at least _try_ to give him a shot. I already made that mistake with Ragna... I can't afford to make it again, no matter how hard it is for me to face him but..."

"You do know that he probably still feels the exact same way that you do right now," Braon explained. "Wracked with guilt and all... I saw him, you know, when we were at the Paleozoic Sovereignty."

Strom sighed. "So you've told me... I can't deny that it's probably true, but still... Braon, you don't know what it's like to be betrayed by your former best friend. It's not something you can get over easily. You're left with a gaping wound inside..."

"I know it's not going to be easy, Strom," the Justimon told him. "But it's right, though I think you already know that. It's something that you two have to work out together."

Strom nodded, though he still felt uncomfortable with the whole thing. "I guess you're right."

"Just remember his side of the story. I don't want you going off on him again, understand?"

Strom offered a small grin. "I make no promises..."

Braon chuckled and gave him a friendly punch on the arm. "Stubborn lizard," he joked.

"You're one to talk about being a lizard, you carefree half-breed," the Spinomon retorted, grinning.

"Ooh, ouch," the smirking Justimon replied. "I'd take that back if I were you; that's insubordination. You want me giving you a new set of scars, you brusque, smart-alecky, overgrown pin cushion?"

"Yes sir!" Strom said as he mock-saluted him. "I'll keep my trap shut from now on! ...Flamboyant, tights-wearing cyborg," the dinosaur added in a mutter, just loud enough for his friend to hear him.

"Okay," the laughing Braon replied, standing to his feet. "That's it!" Without giving Strom a moment to respond, the Justimon jumped up and tackled the twenty foot dinosaur down with ease.

The Spinomon initially grimaced, but soon found himself chuckling. "I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're my Commander," he said as he knocked Braon off of his chest.

"You want a piece of me?" Braon challenged, lunging back at Strom as soon as his feet touched the ground. He landed on Strom's neck and looked down at him with confidence.

As their merriment and friendly fighting continued, groans began to ring out from disturbed rebels and dramon alike. Several digimon shifted to their opposite side or cupped their hands over their ears to drown out the laughing and noise coming from atop the hill.

"Shut up! We're trying to get some sleep!" a MetalGreymon finally shouted over to the pair, earning himself several irritated shushes, as well.

Strom flushed slightly and shut his mouth, realizing that they were being far too loud. Braon, however, hopped down off of Strom and looked down at the horde from atop the hill he was on.

"Okay, who the hell said that?" he called out, pretending to sound angry, but smirking all the while.

The MetalGreymon's face went white with horror as soon as he recognized the voice, realizing exactly who he just told to shut up. "C-C-Commander Braon, sir!" he stammered.

"That's right," Braon replied, ignoring Strom's tittering. "Is there something you want to say to me, soldier?"

"N-no, sir! S-sorry! I didn't realize it was you, Commander!" the MetalGreymon said, standing up and nervously saluting him. "It was his idea!" he pointed to the sleek, dark blue Greymon beside him who was watching with an amused expression.

"Hey!" the Greymon barked at him.

"Never mind," Braon responded, grinning. "Carry on and get some rest. And... we'll try to keep it down, okay?"

"Y-yes, sir!" the MetalGreymon said, bowing. "Thank you, sir!"

"That never gets old," Strom said in a quiet voice, looking over at his Commander.

"What's the use of having this rank if I can't have a bit of fun with it every once in awhile?" Commander Braon replied with a smirk. "We should probably get some rest too, right? It's been a rough day and we've got a big day tomorrow too."

"What's this 'we' stuff, Commander?" Strom asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well you _are_ my apprentice and my subordinate, so you get to help me with micromanaging everything! Sorting out the POWs, meeting with our allies, organizing our troops, a load of post-war stuff that we weren't trained for since we didn't expect Apollo and Artemis would die. Sounds fun, eh, Strom? You're going to love it," Braon said, grinning.

Strom groaned and dragged his palm down the roof of his snout in dread. "You know me _so_ well..." he replied dryly.

Braon chuckled and observed Strom preparing to lie down. "Not going to lie on your back tonight? You know, just to mix things up a bit?" he asked, eyeing the blades and spikes on the dinosaur's back with a grin.

"Very funny, Commander," Strom said responding with both a roll of his eyes and a small smirk.

The Spinomon got on all fours, lying down on his stomach, nestling into the soft grass, curling his tail around his body and resting his head on his forearms. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're adorable when you go to sleep?" the Justimon teased, watching this.

"I hate you," Strom retorted, grumbling in embarrassment.

Commander Braon walked over to Strom and lay down as well, resting his head against the reptile's flank, using the side of his underbelly as a pillow. "I swear, if you roll on top of me again, I'll personally feed you your own spikes," he warned with a grin.

"Nobody's forcing you to sleep like that," Strom answered, closing his gold eyes. "You could use your scarf as a pillow instead."

"And get it dirty? I think not!" he replied, elbowing him slightly.

Strom let out a stifled 'oomph' as Braon unknowingly elbowed a fresh bruise that he sustained sometime during the battle. "Suit yourself, Commander..."

The Justimon smirked slightly and settled in. "Goodnight, Strom."

"Goodnight, Braon..." Strom replied tiredly, his eyes remaining closed.

"And here's to peace..."

-

As everyone slept, the night continued on. The world turned and the stars flickered with hope as time ushered in a new age: an age of peace and tranquility. Or so they hoped.

However, not everybody was so tranquil. Some digimons' hearts still flared and ached from the previous day or just from the unnecessary war in general. In the battle stained fields, some digimon still stirred.

"Quiet down, Dramon," the large, woolly form of a Vikemon whispered angrily. "Others are trying to sleep."

The bipedal mammal folded his arms and continued watching over the group of twenty dramon prisoners of war, all of whom were asleep except for two. "We're not the ones that haven't been taught to whisper, filthy lout," a humanoid cobalt-armoured dramon muttered under his breath, his voice refined and smug.

"What did you call me?" the Vikemon guard asked, his voice rising.

"I called you an unkempt lummox," the dramon reiterated.

The guard frowned pensively and rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out the words seemingly foreign to him. "...One more time?"

"You're a scruffy boor with the appearance and aroma of an abhorrent ogre," he finished, smirking.

The Vikemon remained thinking in silence for several more seconds. "Well... as long as it's a compliment," he finally replied, sitting down.

"Idiot," the dragon digimon whispered quietly before turning to his comrade with a grin. The other prisoner, however, was not in the least bit amused. The bipedal dragon clad in silver plate armour was completely void of any cheer. His green capes hung down onto his tail as his horned face stared down at his wrists, which were bound by chains.

"Aren't you the glum one?" the more relaxed digimon said to the Slayerdramon with a calm, almost teasing expression on his horned face.

"And you aren't?" the Slayerdramon shot back, glaring up at the white scaled dragon who had large pink and azure wings jutting out from his back. The UlforceVeedramon's wrists were also bound in front of him with chains and his V-Bracelets were removed, for obvious reason.

"Of course I am," the azure Royal Knight replied, his smirk disappearing. "The great Dramon Empire reduced to _this_." He gestured with his hands to the other groups of POWs, all with guards keeping an eye on them. "The humiliation is unbearable. We actually surrendered to the Rabble of the Harmonious Republic."

The Slayerdramon remained silent, choosing to stare down at his armoured arms, which showed signs of struggle due to the amount of scrapes and scuffs marks on his arms, presumably from fighting against the chains. He had since stopped trying.

"Well, Ishton? Aren't you going to say something?" the UlforceVeedramon asked.

The silver armoured Dramon remained silent for a moment. "...No, Balion. I'm not."

Balion rolled his crimson eyes and lay back down on his winged back. "And where is that damned Gotungir? I haven't seen him at all since entering the battlefield. Have the rebel filth taken him for questioning?"

"No... He's dead," Ishton replied in a desolate voice. "Master Gotungir was murdered... by the one they call 'Ajax'..."

Balion's head jerked towards him, his eyes wide with shock. "...What?" he spoke, the usual condescension in his voice replaced by incredulousness. "No... That's impossible! He was slain?" Ishton replied with but a sad nod. Balion's eyes narrowed into an angry grimace. "It... can't be. No... Damn it!" he snapped, sitting upwards.

"Quiet!" the Vikemon guard ordered.

"Shut your damn mouth, you inbred parasite!" Balion shouted in response, earning him annoyed growls from his fellow POWs. The Vikemon snarled and narrowed his eyes warningly. The UlforceVeedramon returned the snarl and turned back to Ishton. "Gotungir's actually dead?"

Ishton nodded again. "I saw it with my own eyes..." he whispered. He clenched his restrained fists.

Balion grimaced and looked down. "No..." he spoke softly. "Gotungir, you bastard... How could you go and die before teaching me the secrets of the Future Mode?"

The Slayerdramon snarled and pounced on top of Balion, pinning him to the ground and wrapping his fingers around Balion's neck. The Vikemon just watched, thinking that Balion was getting what he deserved. "How dare you!" Ishton growled, glaring down at him as he started squeezing. "Master Gotungir is dead and that's all you care about? Master Gotungir taught you everything he knew, you ungrateful little worm... And you deserved _none_ of it."

Balion sneered and kicked Ishton off of him. He coughed and sat himself up, glaring at Ishton defiantly. "Not _everything_, apparently... If he hadn't been so foolish to die in battle..." He growled angrily and looked off to the side.

"You probably would have died in battle if it weren't for him, you spoiled little creature. The only reason Master Gotungir accepted you as his apprentice was because he had to, due to your bloodlines and your father's accomplishments and influence. You never would have gotten the Future Mode anyways, Flamdring," Ishton hissed. "He never saw any real potential in you. Master Gotungir-"

"'Master Gotungir'!" Balion quoted him mockingly. "I'm his damn apprentice and _I_ don't even call him that ridiculous title!"

"That's because you have no respect... And you don't know him like me..." Ishton spoke sadly, looking down at the dark grass. "He was my master..."

"Whatever that means," Balion said, rolling his eyes. "Do you have a thing for my former mentor or something?"

The Slayerdramon shot him a glare that could kill. "Would you like me to cut your tongue out?"

"Without your sword, I'd like to see you try," Balion challenged, grinning.

Ishton let out a short, dismissive growl. "...Whatever happens, our empire will be in ruins because of this. Not only have we lost so many of our kin, but we'll be in deep economic trouble and our nation's and species' identity will be forever tarnished."

"Thanks to that damn Imego," Balion said, scowling. "What was the power-hungry idiot thinking?"

"I don't know... I think the power drove him to madness. Thinking he could actually control those abominations..." Ishton spoke. The Slayerdramon looked over at the UlforceVeedramon. "Why are you here, Flamdring? I thought you told Gotungir that you wouldn't follow Imego into battle after what he did to the Three Great Dramon. Yet here you sit, a prisoner like me."

Balion let out a brief scoff. "I did tell him that, but as soon as I heard about Gog and Magog, I raced to the battlefield to see for myself. It was just in time to see that bastard's data melt away. Then I felt the power of everybody being sent to Ajax. I even sent him my own just to spite Imego."

"I didn't," Ishton mumbled. "Even though the entire world was at stake... I could never forgive him for what he did. It would be a tarnish on my soul if I gave him so much as a single fraction of power."

The Slayerdramon whispered, his eyes narrowing. "I will never forgive any of them."

"What?" Balion asked, turning to look at him.

"Our weak-willed comrades surrendered to these scum, but not I. With our command structure broken and our leaders dead, the moderates among us will reach out to the Rebels. Soon we'll be walking hand-in-hand with them, trying to act like nothing happened," Ishton spoke, standing to his feet which grabbed the attention of the Vikemon guard.

"It's a shame, yes, but it can't be helped at this point. ...What are you doing, Ishton?" Balion asked, standing up himself.

"I will not let that happen," Ishton said to himself, anger flaring in his golden eyes. "I will not stand beside his murderers. I will be Master Gotungir's sword, striking at them with flames of vengeance."

He grabbed Balion by the neck, glaring into the UlforceVeedramon's surprised red eyes. "I will get him his revenge." With those words, Ishton hurled Balion into the Vikemon and lunged into the air, flying into the night sky.

After the initial surprise, the Vikemon guard threw Balion to the ground and noticed Ishton escaping. "Alert!" his voice resounded through the fields, causing many annoyed groans and swears. "He's escaping! The Slayerdramon's escaping!"

Commander Braon jolted awake and jumped to his feet. "Wh-what? What's going on?" he demanded, looking around.

"Commander!" a blue Greymon hailed. "A Slayerdramon prisoner's escaping!" He pointed with his small arm in the direction of the escaping Ishton.

"What? Son of a..." the Justimon groaned. As this unfolded, Strom blinked himself awake and tried to get his bearings. Braon looked from atop the hill to the others. "Why weren't the prisoners' wings restrained?"

"I'm on it, Sir!" the Vikemon told him, locking Balion in a bear hug.

"D-Damnit!" Balion swore, struggling against the hulking guard. "Get off of me, you brainless oaf! I wasn't even trying to escape!"

"The order must have gotten lost in the chaos," Strom said groggily. He looked over and saw a Garudamon guard taking flight after Ishton. The humanoid bird digimon flapped his wings frantically to catch up with him.

Soon the Garudamon's body became engulfed in an orange aura. "_Wing Bla—_"

Ishton momentarily halted in his flight and turned around to face the oncoming Garudamon. As the avian digimon was in mid attack, the dragon slammed the toe of his metal boot into his face, causing the guard to reel back in pain. The Slayerdramon took this opportunity to continue on his way through the sky.

Braon scowled. "Of course. After him! Rai! Karasu! Take him down!" he ordered in a booming voice, hastily thinking of the fastest fliers he could think of.

"Braon..." Strom said sadly, clenching his fists as he got to his feet. "They're gone, remember?"

The Justimon snarled. "Somebody go after him! _Anybody!_" he demanded, nearly begging by this point.

"Seventh Pteramon Squad!" King Aegyptu's resounding voice rang out over the massive camp. "To action! Take down that prisoner!" the Spinomon twice as big as Strom ordered.

A group of exhausted armoured pterodactyl digimon reluctantly took to the skies, some yawning as they did so.

"Double the guard on the prisoners in case anymore try to escape! Triple them!" Braon shouted. The Justimon turned around to face Strom. "What are you waiting for, Strom? Start suppressing him until the Pteramon close in!"

"Y-right!" Strom stammered, quickly getting down on all fours and arching his back. "_Sonic Slash Rain!_"

A continuous salvo of blades exploded from Strom's spines, shooting towards Ishton, who was a good deal away by then. The Slayerdramon swerved in his flight to avoid the massive blades. Strom growled and attempted to aim lower, but the further his target got, the harder it was to aim accurately.

Ishton flew with determination, bashing one of the oncoming blades away with his bound hands. Long ranged attacks from other digimon began to rip through the sky towards him. He ducked under a green beam that lit up the sky in an emerald flare and continued to fly up and over a volley of explosive shells. The Slayerdramon dodged and parried all of the attacks thrown at him in remarkable aerial manoeuvres.

"He's out of range, Sir," Strom said to Braon apologetically. The Commander watched as the Pteramon flew after him, but just couldn't keep up with the aerial-based mega level digimon.

"And he's too fast for the Pteramon..." the Justimon replied, dragging his palm down his face in exasperation. "Forget it; he's gone... What a disaster... We could win the war but we couldn't keep a single prisoner from escaping. That guy better not have been somebody important..."

"Everybody's so tired from the battle and the chaos yesterday that they're tripping over each other," Strom said, stifling a yawn himself.

"No kidding," Braon replied, rubbing his temple, still extremely annoyed. "We're just lucky that the other prisoners are either just as tired or just don't care enough to try to follow him or else this could have been a whole lot messier."

Strom nodded and lay back down, trying to get settled into a comfortable position again. "It's just one prisoner. And his hands are tied; he's probably just going to go home now that the war's over. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Maybe..." Braon said, stroking his chin.

The spinosaurus digimon found a comfortable position. "Can we go back to sleep, Commander?"

"Get some rest, Strom," Braon told him. He then groaned. "I have to go check with the guards to make sure the other prisoners are secure..."

The Spinomon nodded and closed his eyes as the commander started walking down the hill towards the camp.

Meanwhile, Ishton looked over his shoulder and saw that the squad of Pteramon were finally giving up and turning around after realizing they were fighting a losing battle. "I'm almost free now," Ishton said to himself, looking down at his chained hands.

"Soon, Master, I'll avenge you. Once again, they will know our might..."

_The Capital of the Dramon Empire_

The sun peaked over the horizon to the east, tinting the clouds pink and casting light over the vast, seaside capital. Smoke still rose into the sky from the struggle of the previous day, when Arahon Alpha's attempted execution took place. However, the order was in complete disarray. All the Dramon Empire's leaders and most of its commanders were all dead. It fell to a select few to attempt to pick up the scraps and maintain the order in the freshly post-war environment.

"WHAT A COMPLETE AND UTTER DISASTER!" a booming voice roared from inside the palace hall, echoing through the streets of the vast medieval city.

Inside what was once the vast palace of the Three Great Dramon sat what little was left of the Dramon's higher echelon. While the hall was still great and ornate, it was now vastly smaller. The gathered digimon sat at the council table which was shaped like a trapezoid. The head of the table, which was the smaller of the parallel sides, was usually reserved for the Three Great Dramon, with their most trusted advisors seated closest to them. The less trusted of the council members sat on the opposite end of the table from them.

However, with both the Three Great Dramon and Imego gone, one of those "less trusted" members decided that they should sit where they want, given that nobody was in charge and the hall that they met in was relatively cramped. "Calm yourself, High Admiral Jormungand," a crimson, bipedal drake spoke from the flank of the table, raising a clawed hand in a placating gesture.

The GigaSeadramon in question glared at the Dorbickmon. "Calm myself?" the massive armoured sea serpent demanded, writhing uncomfortably in his place as he was forced to coil and scrunch his body up just so that he could fit in the hall. During Imego's brief rule, the place had been restructured from suiting the Three Great Dramon's large body types to accommodating Imego's small form. Jormungand raised his head up in anger only to accidentally bang it on the ceiling, earning a few stifled chuckles from the other councillors and advisors. He growled lowly and glared. "We've lost over twenty five percent of our land forces in that battle and I've personally lost ten percent of my Dramon Navy! How do you expect me to calm myself?"

"You could try deep breaths and meditation, High Admiral," the jet plane-like form of a MailBirdramon deadpanned, earning the GigaSeadramon another round of snickers.

Jormungand growled and glared at him from over his coils. "Our Empire is in ruins and you're cracking jokes, Arado? The Three Great Dramon are dead, the fifty percent of the forces that didn't retreat have surrendered, and we've all been running around like headless salamanders!" he snapped. "This is all the fault of Imego: that greedy, selfish worm. We were doing fine until he usurped the thrones! That b*stard was so selfish that he even made this hall smaller just to suit himself and make a point! Now I'm cramped in here like a sardine!"

"That's an accurate simile, Jormun," Arado quipped again, smirking at the aquatic digimon who hissed at him in return.

"_Were_ we doing fine, though?" the Dorbickmon asked aloud, finally allowed to speak his thoughts freely without fear of reprisal.

"What do you mean, Duroth?" a steely yet refined, middle-aged UlforceVeedramon questioned, looking at the Dorbickmon.

"Yes, speak, R'Daruuk," Jormungand said antagonizingly, making no attempt to cover the animosity between them.

The Dorbickmon known as Duroth R'Daruuk addressed them both with a nod. "Allow me to be blunt... The Three Great Dramon threw us – and the Realm of the Harmonious Republic – into civil war based on the _pretext_ of Dramon superiority."

"What do you mean 'pretext'?" Jormungand demanded angrily.

"It's a clever word for 'excuse' or 'mask', Jormun," Arado teased from his place beside Duroth, the MailBirdramon doing well not to grin.

"Watch what you say, Councillor Duroth," the UlforceVeedramon warned.

"Or what, Klain?" the red dragon calmly challenged him. "Will you have me arrested for treason? Treason against whom, exactly? What was left of our rulers died with Imego... and I say good riddance." Duroth sighed and shook his head. "I only mean that if we truly are superior, then we should _improve_ the world, not enslave it."

"Not this drivel again," a Groundramon groaned, rolling his eyes. A few of the other Dramon smirked.

"We _did_ improve the world," Klain protested. "We improved it by taking control of the world from the soft-hearted, sloppy and incompetent Sovereigns. It will only improve by weeding out the weak to make room for the strong. A world of inner and outer strength is utopia and we Dramon are the embodiment of strength! Did you not see how the world thrived under our rule, Duroth?"

"By 'the world', you mean 'our empire'," the Dorbickmon responded. "Did _you_ not see all the death and destruction caused by the civil war? So many lives lost on _both_ sides not for Dramon superiority but for the Three Great Dramons' greed and ambitions."

"I know _you_ did not see any of the death, Councillor," Jormungand hissed at Duroth. "The closest you've been to a battlefield was your weekly sparring session."

"That may be true, High Admiral, but that doesn't make me wrong," Duroth answered calmly. "Our empire might have flourished like never before, but the world suffered as a result of that greedy war."

"The world only suffered because of the Rebels' resistance," Klain rebutted, folding his arms. "If they had assimilated peacefully, we wouldn't have had to take it from them."

"They're not 'rebels' anymore now, are they, Flamdring?" Arado protested, looking at the UlforceVeedramon. "If we continue this hardliner way of thinking, _we'll_ be the rebels who are scurrying for our holes, especially now that the world has finally united against us."

"I still say it was Imego's fault," Jormungand piped up, resting his chin on his serpentine body.

"Enough, everybody," the crimson, draconic form of a DoruGreymon spoke out, crammed in the back of the room for space. "It does no help to assign blame for things that happened in the past. The reason we're all here today is to deal with the Mammothmon in the room: what do we do now? And, more pressingly, who takes charge? If there's no leader for the Dramon citizens to rally behind, I fear the worst for our empire."

"I agree," Duroth spoke, his expression contemplative. "For the most part, they could count on the Three Great Dramon, but after Imego's... _escapade_... they've been left jaded and filled with doubt. They need to be able to trust us."

Jormungand immediately looked over at Klain Flamdring. "Well, you're Bahamut's cousin. That makes you the closest blood to the Three Great Dramon. And I know for a fact that you're a more than capable general."

Klain shook his head and laughed at the seeming ridiculousness of the idea. "No. I want nothing to do with this mess, blood or not."

"I'm so glad we could rely on you, Flamdring," the Groundramon next to him said with a roll of his eyes. The green dragon faced him. "What about your son? Balihun...? Ballyhoo...? Whatever his name was."

"One of the late-Gotungir's lieutenants told me that Balion either surrendered or was captured... and he doesn't seem like the surrendering type," Jormungand said with a light smirk.

"That idiot," Klain growled in frustration, pounding his fist down onto the stone table. "...He wouldn't have agreed anyways. All he cares about is fighting on the front lines and charming women. He's just a stubborn, spoiled boy with no concept of the bigger picture. That was partially why I had Gotungir take him on as an apprentice in the first place."

"In other words, not exactly leader material," the DoruGreymon said. "Who else has blood close to that of the Three Great Dramon who could take on the job?"

Duroth rubbed his temple and muttered something to himself.

"What was that, Duroth?" Arado asked from his side, hearing him, but urging him to speak it loud enough for the others to hear.

"The people should decide..." the Dorbickmon said, speaking in his normal voice. The entire council turned to face him, some in surprise and some in revolt.

"The people?" the Groundramon said over the mumblings of many of the councillors. "But it's decided by-"

Duroth stood to his feet and placed his hands on the table. "It was decided by the greed of the Three Great Dramon! It's about time the Dramon Empire changed!" he spoke, passion clear in his voice. "Perhaps we should take a page from the Palaeozoic Sovereignty and choose our leaders based on _merit_ not the selfish and senseless method of blood. And who better to decide who has the best interests of our people than the people themselves?"

Arado raised himself from his perched position into the air, hovering beside Duroth. "I agree with Duroth. Change is necessary for the survival of our people."

"This is ridiculous!" Jormungand protested.

"I don't like this," the Groundramon grumbled. "We should stick to what's been proven. Now is not the time to test new things and hope that they work."

"The only thing that's been 'proven' is the strength of Jormun's breath," the MailBirdramon said, looking over at the sea serpent.

"What's been proven hasn't worked. It left us with a civil war. And one that we lost, no less! So many Dramon lives have been lost, families shattered, our economy left in ruins and our country is in a world that rightfully despises us," Duroth spoke, fire in his voice. "We need somebody who can pull us out of the hole that we dug for ourselves! We, as Dramon, need to reach out to the other members of the world and stop this pointless fighting! Our very survival depends on it!"

"Here, here," Arado chimed.

"It's not as if we have a better choice..." the pensive DoruGreymon advisor spoke.

"I can't believe this!" High Admiral Jormungand protested. "We need to strike back against the Rebels! An election will only serve to distract us from the real issue!"

"Strike back with what, High Admiral?" the blue form of a Wingdramon asked from across the table. "Lord Protector Imego's dead. Grand Marshal Gotungir's dead. Commander Daehak's dead. And to top it off, only twenty five percent of our combined land and air forces made it back! I'm the highest ranking person in the Dramon Air Force now!"

"Well... Well I still have ninety percent of my Dramon Navy!" the GigaSeadramon urged.

"In no small part thanks to your hasty retreat, Jormun," Arado said, taking great joy in getting a rise out of him.

"As if I would let my soldiers be torn apart by those two monsters!" he snapped defensively, remembering Gog and Magog.

"Not if we restart the Super Soldier Project," the Groundramon suggested. "That would give us the advantage."

Duroth's eyes narrowed and he stared at the emerald dragon with veiled contempt. "That accursed project...? The manipulation of genes and data, chemicals and brutal training all on innocent Dramon... You want to restart _that_?" he demanded, showing visible anger and disgust.

"Super soldiers imply that our regulars aren't good enough!" Jormungand protested. "That project should never have been started to begin with. Dramon soldiers are the greatest in the world! Using super soldiers would only tell the world that we're weak!"

"I'm amazed," Arado spoke. "I actually agree with Jormun, partially. That super soldier project is just hypocrisy. If we really are as great as we like to say, then we wouldn't need to resort to super soldiers. The _one_ good thing Imego did was shut down that project."

"And even then it was because he was worried they'd take away from the grandeur of his power. Selfish fool," Jormungand said, scoffing.

"He claimed they were too wasteful, which I disagree with, but if that's too controversial, then how about the proto super soldiers?" the Groundramon councillor proposed after a roll of his eyes. "They had varying degrees of success. They were certainly capable."

"When they actually followed orders," the Wingdramon muttered.

"They are remarkable fighters," Jormungand conceded, "but they're too unstable and or unreliable. If we continued working on them instead of making them obsolete to the neo super soldier project, then I'm sure they would be our top aces, but as they are now... I don't think we can rely on them to fight for us with any modicum of success."

"That's a big word, High Admiral. I'm proud of you," the snarky MailBirdramon told him.

Trying his best to ignore Arado, Jormungand continued. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't retaliate!"

"It would be a massacre to retaliate, High Admiral," Duroth explained. "Even with our differences, I think Klain would agree with me there. I know you want to fight, High Admiral, but soldiers' minds are often clouded by the shadow of war; it is their job, after all. Allow us to look at this situation more... practically. We simply can't fight a war without a leader, not that I even want to. Somebody needs to take control of the situation."

"Whatever you all agree on," Klain said, indifferent to the matter. "The last feasible leaders died on Imego's blade, so I don't particularly care who leads us as long as they can do the job. However, who would be the candidates?"

Duroth bowed his head and closed his eyes in deep thought as the others discussed possible candidates. He drowned out their talking and debating trying to decide if this was what he really wanted to do. His claws drummed on the top of the table as he stared off in thought. For a moment, he wondered if throwing his name in was really the right thing for him to do. He thought about the possible reprucussions. Would his good intentions be morphed into greed and hatred? Would he become like the Three Great Dramon and Imego?

Duroth closed his fist tightly. No. He wouldn't allow that to happen. His will was too strong and he knew the righteousness and purity in his goals and ambitions. He wouldn't allow himself or his ideals to be swayed by such baser feelings. He would do this, for the sake of everybody.

After a deep breath, he spoke out in a voice that silenced the whole hall.

"Silence!" he shouted, his eyes snapping open and glaring across the table. "I'll do it. I, Duroth R'Daruuk, nominate myself as a candidate!"

"What?" the Groundramon asked in shock.

Klain laughed aloud. "You're the arrogant one, aren't you?"

"I get it. This election nonsense is just a power-grab!" Jormungand protested. "You just want to be the ruler but you didn't have the right blood, so you used a people's election as the means to do it!"

"This isn't about arrogance or power-lust," Duroth shot back. "I am not Imego or the Three Great Dramon. This is about putting the Dramon Empire on the _proper_ path: the path of peace and cooperation. Everybody in this empire is so intent on going on about how great we all are. If that's true, then we ought to share this gift with the rest of the world and make the utopia that everybody wishes for!"

"I stand with you, Duroth," Arado spoke. "You have my full support." His voice went into a mutter that only Duroth could hear. "I'm glad you spoke up before I was forced too, anyway."

Duroth nodded to the MailBirdramon in thanks. "The only reason I'm doing this is for the future of the Dramon Empire and this world. We cannot afford to stand by our old laws and our deep-rooted 'ideals' any longer! This empire _must_ change! _We_ must change! We _will_ change! And I will be the one to usher in this reformation! We will cast aside our hatred and pride and meet the other digimon as equals! We will make this world flourish and thrive once again! This is how it should be!"

Arado and a few of the other councillors all let out cheers and roars of support in response to Duroth and his words.

Jormungand and Klain, along with some of the others, released snarls of protest. The GigaSeadramon admiral raised his head in anger only to find himself banging it on the ceiling once again. He glared down at Duroth, mulling over his options. He thought about his soldiers who looked up to him as a competent leader. However, he also considered what Duroth might do if he went unopposed. He didn't trust him enough to let that happen.

"Rrrgh... Well, if that's the case, I nominate myself too. Unlike Duroth, I _am_ a leader and I'm not a bleeding heart idealist trapped up in an ivory tower. I run a whole navy; I could run this empire just as easily."

"Yes. Run it straight into the ground," Arado quipped.

"We'll see what the people have to say about that," Jormungand snapped.

"So we shall," the DoruGreymon said. He looked around at the others. "Is there anybody else who would like to step in as well?"

Silence followed, as did uncomfortable shuffling and grunting. A few of the councillors looked as though they were seriously debating nominating themselves, but it seemed like their self-control (or nerves) overpowered their ambition and kept them from speaking out. An election would be a time-consuming, difficult and even dangerous process, given the state of their empire.

The DoruGreymon nodded. "Very well then." He turned to Duroth who was in the process of sitting back down in his chair. "Duroth. I think you should take Arado and go to the Rebels' camp later in the morning. I have no doubt that they will be requesting an audience. Be prepared to negotiate for the prisoners they've captured. Does that sound okay?"

Duroth nodded. "Of course. I'll do everything in my power to get them released."

Klain nodded, albeit grudgingly. "Do what you need to do, R'Daruuk," he said. "We need a heavy military presence here. There's no guarantee the rebels won't attack inside our borders. It's possible they'll get cocky from the victory and try to press the attack all the way to our capital. Hopefully not though."

Jormungand hissed. "I'll put my navy on full alert in our waters."

"And I'll put the Air Force on the defensive," the Wingdramon added.

The DoruGreymon nodded. "Good. Then this meeting is adjourned."

The various Dramon all rose from their seats and places and moved towards the exit, which was blocked by Jormungand's large body.

"Jormun, would you mind moving your ample body from the entrance? We're trying to get out," Arado spoke, flying up to hover in front of his face.

"...I'm stuck," the High Admiral grumbled, feeling blood rush to his face under his metal hide.

"...You're stuck...?" Arado asked levelly, though on the inside he was having a ball.

"Yes... Use the back door," he responded, looking off to the side.

"Are you sure we can't help?" the MailBirdramon asked.

"Just go!" Jormungand snapped. "And make sure everybody inside gets out. I think this place could use some... renovations..."

Klain rolled his eyes and turned around to head for the door on the other side of the room. "At least leave it so that it's salvageable. It would be a waste to disintegrate all of it," he told the GigaSeadramon.

"I'll see what I can do," he grumbled in response as the other councillors made their way towards the back exit of the grandiose hall.

Meanwhile Duroth, followed by Arado, made their way towards the wall on the side of the room. The Dorbickmon's gold and violet eyes gleamed as he raised his clawed arm out in front of him. The ground exploded upwards and pillars of rock pierced through the wall and pulled the stones down, creating a hole large enough for Arado to exit though. The blue, jet-like dragon was too big to exit though anywhere else except the currently blocked front entrance.

"Thank you for that, Duroth," the MailBirdramon said, turning on his jets slightly so he could fly through the breach.

"Anything for a close friend, Arado," Duroth replied, smiling.

"Then I'm fortunate I'm your close friend as opposed to just your friend," Arado joked as he flew beside the large, crimson dramon. "Perhaps I should ask you to polish my wings later."

Duroth responded with a toothy grin as they began travelling up the stone road that led away from the hall. "Shall I massage your feet while I'm at it?" he responded.

Arado chuckled briefly, though it was soon drowned out by blaring clatter behind them. They both looked over their shoulders and saw Jormungand burst through the roof of the palace, sailing into the air as fragments of stone and marble followed him. The metal sea serpent then soared in a circle over the grand structure before diving down through one of the walls.

"THIS is what I think of your damn palace, you stupid, SCRAWNY, white WORM!" he roared, ramming through one side of the building and exiting through the other. "Now it's got enough space to fit ME!"

Arado smirked in amusement as Jormungand continued his thorough decimation of the building. "Well, at least Jormun can finally vent. He's a very angry eel, wouldn't you say?" he spoke, trying to talk over the sound of the palace collapsing in on itself in a massive cloud of dust.

The two continued up the small hill and walked between some higher class castles towards the marketplace. Duroth's airborne companion glanced over at him. "That was a bold move you made in there..."

"Bold but necessary," Duroth replied. "If Jormungand has his way, we'd be rushing back into war in the name of Dramon pride. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud that I'm a Dramon, Arado, but it doesn't mean the other digimon are inferior to us. And it certainly doesn't mean we have to be their overlords."

"I agree," the MailBirdramon said. "Had we said this yesterday, we would have been on the execution stand right there beside Arahon Alpha."

"What a difference a day makes," the Dorbickmon mused softly.

"Indeed... So you're really planning to become the leader?" Arado questioned. "It won't be easy."

"I'm aware of that," Duroth said with a grin, "but this is also necessary. If we Dramon are too proud and stubborn to change, then I will _make_ us change. I will try to _end_ this cycle of violence and hatred and _shatter_ these feelings of superiority and contempt!"

"Save it for your campaign, Duroth; I'm already behind you completely."

Duroth nodded and looked forward, walking with steely determination.

"I _will_ fix this broken world... no matter what it takes."


	2. Part 2: The End of War

_**Part 2**_

As the time passed, the sun rose higher into the sky, casting warm, rejuvenating rays down onto what was once the battlefield that decided the fate of the world. A calm wind blew through the charred grass and the waves continued to wash up against the sandy shore.

The day had since broken and there was now a sea of digimon moving about and a storm of voices drowning out their footsteps. The members of the Harmonious Republic all went about their duties, most staying with their own group now, if they had one.

"Come on, Strom! Move that big butt of yours. You're slowing me down!" Braon called behind himself as he walked beside the Greymon Corps.

The Spinomon groaned and trudged through the grass, leaving deep imprints in the green blades as he stepped on them. "We've been running around since the break of dawn. Can't we take a break?"

"In case you've forgotten, I'm a Commander and all of my superiors are dead. I've got a hell of a lot of work to do and I'm not waiting around for you, got it?" the Justimon told him firmly.

Strom stopped and doubled over, panting. "Great. In that case, you get working and I'll wait here," he said, trying to catch his breath.

Commander Braon stopped and slowly turned around, making his way back over to the dinosaur. He grabbed Strom's uninjured claws in his metal hand and twisted it firmly, bringing Strom to his knees. "Let me make it clear to you, my apprentice," he said coolly, twisting the cringing reptile's arm harder. "Walk. Faster."

"Y-Yes sir," Strom managed to choke out before giving a sigh of relief upon feeling Braon release his hand.

"Good..." he mumbled, walking forward again.

The Spinomon muttered a few things under his breath but walked fast enough to keep up with his superior. "So what do we have to do now? More POW stuff? Talking with leaders? Preparing for a possible counterattack?"

Braon shook his head and continued walking towards the open field. "I don't think they'll counterattack... I think this is the end of it."

"Let's hope so," Strom replied as he manoeuvred around a MetalGreymon. "...So what are we doing? And I haven't seen any of the other Avengers since yesterday."

"They're around-" The Justimon was abruptly interrupted when the loud humming of wings neared. The giant purple body of a TyrantKabuterimon descended down in front of him, his mandibles on his face pointing towards Braon as he looked to the Commander.

"Commander Braon," the TyrantKabuterimon spoke. "I'm taking my troops back to the Royal Hive now. We need to start rebuilding our home."

Braon nodded. "That's completely fine, Terminus. We can't express how grateful we are for all the help you've given us. We'll be happy to help your effort once we deal with this mess."

Terminus nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. I'll be sure to send you medical herbs and antidotes from our forest as soon as we can. I know you're all low on supplies. We'll be off then."

"See ya then. Watch out for Dramon on the way home," the Justimon joked, waving him off.

As that was taking place, Strom was carefully looking through the ranks and various groups, trying to find the other Avengers. It was Osiris in particular that he wanted to talk to. While he was never particularly close with the Anubismon (or any of the others, for that matter) he knew that Osiris was close friends with Ragna. Strom felt the need to speak with him.

His atypically gold coloured eyes scanned the area from his natural vantage point, trying to spot the dark, jackal-like head of Osiris' winged body. A horde of Greymon to the left, a pack of Leomon to the right, various aquatic digimon in the water off the beach... Strom grunted, realizing he'd never find him standing around like this. He started walking, ducking under a swarm of various types of insect digimon who were following Terminus back to the Royal Hive.

"Osiris!" he called out over the cacophonous drumming of wings. He received no answer. "Terrific..."

The Spinomon grumbled to himself and walked over to the bunch of Greymon. After a moment of reluctance, he tapped a MetalGreymon on the shoulder, prompting the navy blue dinosaur digimon to turn around, eyeing him through his visor with an annoyed look. "What?"

"Have you seen an Anubismon around? One of the Avengers?" Strom asked before gesturing to his face. "Pointy ears, long snout, kind of sarcastic and wears bracelets that defy physics?"

"No," the MetalGreymon replied brusquely.

"Thanks. You were a big help," Strom replied just as brusquely. He turned and started walking away, but the cyborg-like dinosaur's voice stopped him.

"Didn't you Palaeozoic Sovereignty dinosaurs leave early this morning? Shouldn't you be with them?" he asked.

"No... I shouldn't," Strom replied, not bothering to turn around to face him. The MetalGreymon shrugged in reply and the orange dinosaur walked away, continuing his search. Strom approached the nearby clan of Leomon next, hoping to get better luck with them. "Have any of you seen an Anubismon?"

He received several negative shakes of their heads. Strom rolled his eyes and continued walking, slowly growing frustrated. He walked up to a single ShineGreymon whose back was turned to him. The digimon was silently looking out over the devastated, lonely battlefield, observing the smoke that still rose from the craters and remembering all the death that took place there.

"Hey, pal," Strom said from behind the white armoured, red winged, humanoid dragon. "Have you seen a-..."

The ShineGreymon turned around slowly, revealing a very feminine figure. As she turned to face Strom, she glared up at him with angry yet sorrowful eyes. If the dinosaur looked closer, he might have noticed the tears resting in her eyes. "What do you want?" she asked him.

Gallons of blood pumped up the arteries in his long neck and pooled in his cheeks and snout, causing him to flush intensely as he looked down at the female ShineGreymon. "A..." he babbled, suddenly distracted from what he wanted to ask her.

He continued staring at her, unsure of what to say. At the back of his mind, he wondered to himself why he was so enraptured by this ShineGreymon and why his tongue and brain suddenly ceased their functions upon meeting her. However, all he could think about at the time was hoping to the Sovereigns that she wouldn't notice how much he was blushing.

"...Well?" she asked, somewhat impatiently, seeming not to notice the sudden deep redness in his orange scales.

"Uh, r-right," he stammered. "You, uh, seen an Anubismon around?"

"No, I haven't," the ShineGreymon replied shortly.

Strom's eyes met with hers and he could feel his heart move into overdrive. He didn't seem to notice that she was growing exasperated with his constant staring. "...Is that all?" she asked.

"Y-yes," the dinosaur replied.

"Then excuse me," she said, turning around and walking away, brushing past a passing MirageGaogamon as she did.

"'Kay..." he answered dumbly, still staring at her as she walked away.

"Hey, Strom, why did you suddenly run off?" Braon's voice called out from beside him.

Strom didn't reply. He was still in a trance-like state, his eyes still gazing. "_What's happening to me...?_" he thought to himself.

"Digital World to Strom..." Braon said, walking in front of him. "Hey!"

The Spinomon blinked and abruptly looked down at the Justimon. "Y-yeah! Hi! What?" he stammered.

Braon looked over his shoulder to see what he was staring at, grinned, and turned back to Strom. "...Why are your cheeks so red, Strom?" he asked with an all-knowing expression.

"Wh-what?" he demanded, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade. "You're ridiculous! Don't be talking... nonsense..." he attempted to retort.

"...You have a thing for her, don't you, big guy?" the Commander said with a smirk. He folded his arms with pride. "Didn't I tell you that chicks dig scars?"

"I don't..." he tried to rebuff, but knew it was no use. He sighed in defeat. "She's not into me."

"Determination's the key, good apprentice," Braon responded. "Now, come on. I just got a runner from Arahon. He wants me."

"I'm trying to find Osiris. What do you need me for?" Strom retorted.

"He'll be around later. Now, stop trying to shirk your duties and get moving, got it?" the Justimon told him firmly.

Strom nodded reluctantly and followed the Commander through the crowd. He saw the black-armoured, knight-like commander standing a hundred metres away in the ravaged plain of grass, beside him a red-caped, white-armoured knight. The pair approached the two Rebels curiously.

"Arahon?" Braon asked, walking up to the ebony clad warrior. "What is it?"

The Alphamon raised his arm and pointed across the green and brown field. Commander Braon and Strom followed the other Commander's gaze and saw a red dragon riding atop an azure, jet-like wyvern, carrying a white flag in his claws as a means of deterrence. "I think they're ready to negotiate..."

-

Duroth narrowed his yellow eyes while kneeling on Arado's back with one foot planted firmly on the dragon's blue wing. The wind swept against his red scales causing him to focus solely on keeping his balance. He clutched the red, horn-like protrusion on the MailBirdramon's back for support.

"Am I flying too swiftly, Duroth?" the winged dragon asked, craning his head to the side so that he could look back at the Dorbickmon. "Shall I slow down?"

Duroth shook his head resolutely. "I may not be a warrior, but I'm no pushover either. Just keep at it, Arado," he said.

Arado nodded. "Very well," he replied. The MailBirdramon poured on the afterburners of his six engines, creating a pink and purple glow of exhaust under his long wingspan. The Dorbickmon clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on both Arado and the flag. Arado squinted and looked ahead of them. "I see them..."

Duroth raised himself slightly, just enough to look over the armoured dragon's head. Across the battle torn terrain was a massive crowd of rebels and Dramon POWs alike. "These are their forces?" he asked with awe.

"I just hope that they're as reasonable as we are," Arado said, shutting off his engines and beginning to glide. "Or else we'll have a conflux of digimon after our trembling tails."

"You? Tremble?" Duroth asked with a grin. "We'd sooner see Jormungand read a book before anything ruffles _your_ feathers."

The MailBirdramon let out a single chuckle. "I suppose. It's not easy being so composed, you know. I suppose that's why you're a better candidate for leader than I. You have a certain charisma; a way of rousing peoples' hearts. You're a very passionate digimon, you know."

"That's why I plan to appoint you my chief and primary advisor, Arado. My second in command, as it were," Duroth said, prompting a slight look of surprise from the blue and silver dramon. "You're cool and analytical enough to know when to keep me from going overboard. We both want the same thing and I trust you."

"That's kind of you, Duroth," Arado replied with a slight grin. "You're close to making me blush."

Duroth snickered and felt the plane-like digimon decelerate greatly. He looked over the field and saw four digimon waiting for them with the countless digimon behind them regarding the dramon warily. "Can you recognize our welcoming committee?"

Arado nodded. "Arahon Alpha, Braon and, I believe, two of the Avengers... Ajax Ouranos and the Spinomon," he responded, beginning his gradual descent to the ground.

Duroth tossed the white piece of cloth behind him and hailed the small group with a slight wave. Arado gravitated towards the grass below, nearing both the ground and the group of four. Duroth hopped off of his back and the red dragon landed on a small mound of dirt. His weight sent a small explosion of the earthy particles out from around his feet as he landed. He walked towards them with purpose in his stride and his MailBirdramon companion looped around and landed gracefully beside him. Together they approached the four.

"Behave yourself, Strom," Commander Braon muttered. "You and Ajax are here as our bodyguards, but I don't really think we'll need it by the looks of it. Don't say anything and leave the talking to us; we've been waiting years for this and we can't afford to screw it up."

Strom rolled his eyes. "I'll try not to breathe while I'm at it," he murmured as the two Dramon strolled formally up to them.

"Greetings and salutations," Duroth said, stopping in front of the two commanders who were flanked by their respective bodyguards. "My name is Councillor Duroth R'Daruuk. I'm here to represent the Dramon Empire along with my friend here," the red drake said, outstretching his claw to the two Commanders.

"Commander Arahon Alpha," the black-armoured Alphamon spoke, shaking his hand with a brief nod.

"You can just call me Braon," the Justimon commander said, shaking Duroth's claws with his metal hand after Arahon released it. "I'm not big on formality."

"Councillor Arado Skrikewing at your service," said the MailBirdramon, raising his metal claws to shake both Arahon Alpha's and Braon's hands.

Duroth then turned to Ajax and shook his hand as well. "I have to say, I'm honoured to be in the presence of such elite warriors as the Avengers," he said, smiling. "Your skill is renowned, Ajax." The red scaled dragon then turned away from him and outstretched his claw to Strom. "I'm afraid I don't know your name though, Avenger."

Braon gave Strom a stern look to wordlessly tell him not to say anything he'd regret. The Spinomon caught the glance and grunted. "I guess you must have missed the interrogation then," he said rebelliously, despite his superior's warning.

His Justimon companion switched his mechanical arm to its much more bulky Accel Mode and proceeded to grab Strom's ankle and sent volts of electricity coursing through him, prompting a pained yelp from the dinosaur.

"Please, Commander," Duroth said, raising a hand. "I understand his frustration." The Dorbickmon looked at the wincing Strom and noticed the scars on his chest. "I am truly sorry for whatever misfortune befell you as a result of the Dramon Empire. That goes for all of your comrades as well."

"And Strom wants to apologize and properly introduce himself now, _don't you_, Strom?" Braon spoke sternly.

"Yes..." Strom grumbled, bowing his head and lightly closing his giant claws around Duroth's and shaking them. "Strom Marocannus. Sorry for my rudeness..."

Duroth shook his head reassuringly. Meanwhile, Arado smirked inwardly but kept his tongue at bay. It was Arahon that broke the silence, addressing the two Councillors. "I take it you're here to settle the terms and conditions of a ceasefire?" he questioned.

"Ceasefire?" Duroth asked, chuckling slightly. "No. Arado and I wish for nothing more than to end this pointless war for all eternity."

"Finally something we can all agree on," Commander Braon said with a small smirk.

"Is this the wish of all of the leading parties of the Dramon Empire?" Commander Arahon questioned.

"Were it that simple," the MailBirdramon responded with a faint smile.

Arahon Alpha frowned. "With Imego dead, who _is_ in charge now, Councillors? If anybody."

Arado craned his head towards Duroth, gesturing to the Dorbickmon. "You're looking at him."

Duroth smiled slightly. "What my friend means is that we will soon be undergoing elections where citizens vote for candidates for the task of leadership. As it is now, the candidates are myself and High Admiral Jormungand."

"An election?" Braon asked with almost chary surprise. "What an unbelievable one-eighty your country made. Tyranny to reasonable elections?"

"And with Jormun's frankly comical inadequacy, the win is likely guaranteed for Duroth," Arado claimed.

"Arado, we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. We don't know where the peoples' hearts lie," he said. Duroth looked at the two Commanders with a smile. "However, I assure you that there are many Dramon who are like Arado and myself, each calling for peace and equality throughout the world. However, with the tyrants and warmongers that were among us, none could speak out until now for fear of reprisal. "

"To business though," Arahon Alpha spoke. "Are you both here on your own accord or are you here on the behest of the other members of your ruling body? I appreciate your sentiments, but if this isn't an official meeting..."

Arado stepped forward, gesturing to a small leather purse hanging from around his neck. The Alphamon commander stepped forwards and detached the carrier from the MailBirdramon, retrieving and opening up a small scroll from inside. On the parchment were the signatures of each of the Councillors. "It's official," Arahon proclaimed after reading it over.

"So the Dramon Empire wants a permanent peace?" Commander Braon said with some scepticism in his voice.

"There are many among us that still hold the view of Dramon superiority and our so-called 'right' to conquer, but there are more that want nothing more than peace. I plan to convince everybody of this ideal," Duroth explained.

"It won't be easy, Councillor. You have to know that," Braon responded.

"Such monumental changes never _are_ easy, Commander," the Dorbickmon answered, "but the 'easy' road is rarely the _right_ road." He looked at the two. "What are your terms?"

The Justimon and Alphamon whispered amongst themselves for a few moments.

"Do you think Uriel, Castiel and Rhea will be okay with that?" Braon asked in a hushed tone.

"I talked to them this morning along with Aegyptu, Terminus, Boagrius and Fenris. We all agreed on this," Arahon replied.

Commander Braon nodded and looked at the two Dramon. "First, we want all the digimon who were unjustly captured and/or enslaved to be released. We're willing to trade the Dramon POWs for them. Second, we want all lands and territories conquered by the Dramon Empire after your secession from the Harmonious Republic to be released back to their rightful owners. Third, we want the Dramon Empire's military to be fully demobilized and dissolved. How are things for you so far?"

Duroth and Arado both exchanged worried glances. The Dorbickmon scratched the back of his horned head. "Regretfully, we cannot accept those terms as they are," Duroth explained apologetically.

"What?" Braon asked, frowning.

"We were fine with them up until the dissolution of our military," Arado clarified. "The only reason we have a problem with this is due to our own safety."

Duroth nodded in agreement. "There is not one foreign state in this world that doesn't hold at least some contempt towards us and they have every right to do so, with what our empire has done... however, if we were to be attacked in retaliation with no military to defend us... We just can't jeopardize our people like that. Please understand. Power is required to uphold peace and order. However, I promise never to use that power to take up arms against another nation unless our own nation is under a clear and present threat, should I become leader. You have my word on that."

Arado hovered forwards slightly. "It's not as if we're able to successfully attack anybody in our present state anyways, not that we would with our leadership and military torn to shreds and moderates like ourselves finally speaking out. We are more than willing to pay war reparations though. I assume that was your next request?"

Braon nodded. "It won't be a modest sum..."

"It would be foolish to expect it would be," Arado replied. "We'll pay the reparations, assuming that they're reasonable."

"We all think it's a fair price given the circumstances," Arahon replied, taking out a scroll of his own and handing it to Duroth.

The dragon opened it and Arado peered over his spiked shoulder at the paper. His jaw dropped. "By the Sovereigns..." he mumbled. "I sure hope Jormun left all the gold parts of the palace untouched; we're going to need them..."

"Is there anything else?" Duroth asked.

"No, except that I truly hope these reforms that you're talking about creating really do lead to a lasting peace, Duroth," Braon said, outstretching his hand. "Do you accept these terms of peace?"

Duroth outstretched his claws and gripped the Justimon's metal hand firmly. "I do. I hope that we might form a trusting friendship in the future. This is how it _should_ be."

Meanwhile, Arado raised his claws and clasped Arahon's hand as well. "Finally, we can all rest easy and bask in the light of peace," the winged dragon said.

"That is our only wish," Arahon replied, shaking the Dramon's talons. "We will need to have several follow up meetings."

"That sounds reasonable to me," Duroth said. "Again, I am truly sorry about this terrible war, but I realize that my words can never make up for it."

"_That's for damn sure,_" Strom thought to himself.

"Anyways, we should be off now," Arado said. "What say we have the prisoner exchange late this afternoon? We'll come here with them along with a small escort of Dramon soldiers, just for safety purposes. Is that okay?"

Braon looked at Arahon, who nodded. "Seems fine. Can we have a roster of all of your prisoners?"

Duroth nodded and jumped up onto Arado's back. "Of course, but I'm afraid that there are some real criminals mixed in with unjustly accused. We will be personally looking over each of the records to sort the good from the bad. Expect us later. Farewell, Commanders."

"Safe travels," Arahon responded with a nod.

Commander Braon waved them off and began walking away with Strom, going back to his duties. "Do you believe what they're saying?" Strom asked, walking behind the Justimon and glancing over his shoulder to the departing Dramon.

"I heard of those two back when I was with the Dramon Empire. They were often on the outs with the Three Great Dramon. I think we can trust them to do the right thing," Braon answered. "They'd be the last ones I'd expect to stab us in the back."

"It's the last one you expect whose blade digs the deepest," Strom remarked reflectively.

Braon didn't respond, understanding what it was Strom was talking about. "...Come on, Strom," he finally said. "Let's get back to work, okay?"

As they started to walk back into the ranks, something caught Strom's eyes. "Hold on, sir," he said, running off.

"Strom, wait a sec!" Braon called after him to no avail. He let out an indignant 'humph' and folded his arms. "Dinosaurs..."

Jogging through the grass, the Spinomon made sure not to hit or step on anybody as he moved through the thick crowd. "Osiris!" he called out, not taking his eyes off the digimon that resembled a winged Anubis.

Osiris turned around and saw Strom running towards him. "...Strom?" he asked with veiled sombreness in his voice, looking at the reptile curiously as he stopped in front of him.

"What've you been doing? I've been looking everywhere for you!" Strom said, bending down and panting.

"Moving the wounded, trying to get things organized... Just attempting to help," the Anubismon replied. "Did you need me for something, Strom?"

"I, uh..." Strom turned his head, finding the words difficult to say. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Ragna..."

Osiris stifled a grimace as Strom spoke the name of his recently deceased friend. As much pain as he felt, he wanted them to remain optimistic, always looking forward. "...He would be happy to know his words linger deep in our hearts, Strom. Take solace in that... and the fact that, wherever he is, he's with Valra..."

"Right..." Strom said grimly, his gaze trailing downwards. "And the Wyrmflame?"

His eyes settled on his left hand, where blood-stained bandages were tied around, trying to heal the wounds that he received trying to pick up the sword in question. His focus went back to Osiris when the Anubismon started talking.

"I put it in a rock at the peak of one of the nearby islands," Osiris explained. "As a sort of memorial, I suppose..."

Strom grimaced and looked down at his massive form which could neither fly nor swim, thus preventing him from going to see it. "Right. Of course," he grumbled to himself.

"Try not to dwell on what happened, Strom," Osiris assured him. "We've finally reached the light of peace after treading through the fog of war. We've reached the goal that we were _all_ striving for. You, I, Ragna, Valra, Rai, Karasu, Ajax... All of us. Just focus on looking forwards. Towards our future."

A soft breath left Strom's nostrils. "Yeah... Our future," the reptile digimon muttered. "Anyways... I'll see ya around, Osiris. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Strom... And don't lose hope," Osiris told him.

Strom gave him a quick nod and started to walk away. "I won't if you won't. ...Later."

Without another word, the Spinomon went on his way to catch up with his commander.

-

The orange rays of sunset touched upon a small Dramon city, recognizable as Draconic architecture by the tall stone buildings, high parapets, and a grand, medieval style of structures with decidedly horn and claw-like features. It was nowhere near as large or as grand as the Dramon capital, but Wyrmeston still held the qualities that a city of dragons would have. It was grand, yet imposing.

A silver comet flew through the air towards the city, flying over the scant occupied walls. The orange sun hit the Slayerdramon's dirty, metal armour, causing the thick plates to gleam and take on an orange blaze in the spots untouched by grime. Ishton began to descend towards the stone road below, where he was hidden from the glow of the sun in the shadows of the buildings.

The humanoid drake touched down on the street and his metal boots hitting the ground caused his armour to rattle. He looked down at his forearms which were still bound together by chains. "_I still have to get rid of these,_" he thought to himself. He looked around the courtyard and saw only a few Dramon wandering around, going about their daily business. It was emptier than it should have been. The brief appearance of apocalyptic terrors such as the Gog-Magog entity had obviously shaken many of the world's inhabitants. "_I think I'll begin here._"

Ishton walked through the open courtyard, a warm breeze flowing through his armour and soothing his sweaty blue scales. He held his chained hands close to his torso, hoping nobody would see lest they thought he were a criminal or something. The Slayerdramon looked around at the buildings of Wyrmeston. His gold, draconic eyes lit up when he found the place he was looking for on a corner off the courtyard, not too far from the city walls.

The blacksmithing forge.

He hurried over to the fifteen foot tall building, which had three chimneys coming out its stone roof. By the small size of it, he knew that this particular forge was for smaller Dramon like himself. There was another larger one in the city suited for the larger digimon among them.

Ishton budged open the door and walked inside the smithy, already feeling the heat of the hearth against his scales. There he saw an emerald Coredramon blacksmith sharpening a long, metal spike extended out of the wrist of a black gauntlet.

"Well, Ishton..." a dark voice said from the shadowed corner of the room. "Good to see you made it back."

The Slayerdramon looked and saw that it was not the blacksmith talking, who was much too focused on his work to even notice him. A very muscular, blue-scaled figure stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the fire, revealing himself. Ishton looked at the digimon who stood the same height as himself, watching as he slipped his red helmet on over his long azure ears and small snout.

"Tartarus," Ishton said with mild surprise, staring at the Paildramon as he stretched his two pairs of white and blue wings.

"That's me," the grinning Paildramon said, walking over and taking Ishton's bound hands in his azure fingers and eyeing them. "Looks like I made it out more unscathed than you did." He looked over to the blacksmith and pulled the Slayerdramon over to the fire pot. "Hey, can you hold off on my gauntlets for a second? I need you to get the chains off my friend here."

The green-scaled dragon stepped away from the sharpening stone, took one look at the chains and eyed them suspiciously. "Who is he?" he asked.

"High Lieutenant Ishton Kirzarv of the First Dramon Air Force. I serve under... _served_ under Grand Marshal Gotungir," he explained, his voice becoming sullen.

"He's on the same team as me," Tartarus explained.

"Why the chains?" the dragon blacksmith asked.

"I was captured in the battle yesterday by the Rebels and taken as a prisoner of war. I was able to escape during the night," he explained.

The Coredramon nodded and took out his cold chisel and hammer. "I'll have you out of them in no time," he said, placing the edge of the tool against the chains and then bringing the hammer down to the end of the chisel. Ishton initially winced at the pressure, but his armour absorbed most of the impact.

Ishton looked over to Tartarus, who observed him with folded arms. "So, you know how I escaped. What about you?"

The buff Paildramon smirked. "When the fighting gets bad, the good get out," he replied, brushing a few cinders from off his scales. "A part of being a first-rate fighter is knowing when to pick your battles. I may be able to beat any digimon in a one-on-one fight, but those two things that roasted Imego weren't 'any digimon'."

"So you retreated with most of the others?" Ishton asked, more questioning than judging him. He ignored the sparks and hammering coming from the blacksmith working on the chains.

"Unashamedly, yes," Tartarus replied, watching the Coredramon work. "When you live to fight like I do, the 'living' aspect is top priority. After all, I can't fight if I'm dead, can I?"

"I suppose you can't," the Slayerdramon said as the blacksmith hacked through the first link of chains, sending sparks dancing onto the stone counter. "So, what are you doing here, Tartarus?"

"I also can't fight effectively if my weapons aren't honed," he replied, gesturing to his gauntlets. The Paildramon then took off his green chest armour, revealing a toned chest donning a fused 'X' and 'V' along with countless scars, some new but many old. He proceeded to place the armour on the counter. "I convinced the smith to hammer out the dents in my armour too. I should be battle ready in no time... that is, if there's any battles left to be fought." Tartarus looked to Ishton for his reaction.

Ishton looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"There's talks of peace going around," the large Paildramon replied. "With our empire's leadership wrecked, word on the street is that the councillors have already come to tentative terms with the Rebels."

"What?" the armoured dragon demanded angrily. "...I knew this would happen. I knew those soft-hearted salamanders would try to come to terms with the Rebels. Damn them."

Tartarus grinned behind his helmet, his blood-red eyes sparkling as the light of the forge's fires flickered. "So soon, too. It's like they're spitting on the graves of everyone who died in this war," he mused. "Branding them as evil and wrong. Even our leader, Grand Marshal Gotungir."

Ishton snarled in a controlled fury. "It's settled then. I'm setting my plan into motion," he spoke.

"Your plan?" the Paildramon questioned, watching as the blacksmith broke through the remaining chains.

The Slayerdramon separated his hands and stretched, cracking the stiff bones in his back. He turned back towards Tartarus with determination. "This isn't the end of our conquest. I will continue our war even if I have to do it myself," he explained, his voice steely. "The Rebels have the 'Avengers'... As if they're the only ones who have something to avenge. They act as if they have the moral high ground. But what about us, Dramon? Haven't we also lost? In the name of vengeance, I will fight them to the bitter end in Gotungir's name." He looked to the Coredramon. "Get me a medium-sized Fragarach sword."

Tartarus grinned in glee. "Not to sound like a warmonger, but that sounds like something tailor-made for me," he offered, sliding on the gauntlet the blacksmith had finished with.

"You want to help me?" Ishton asked. "I thought it would take more convincing."

The Paildramon chuckled a dark laugh. "Come on, Ishton; as soon as the fighting stops, so does my usefulness, unless you count tavern brawls," Tartarus answered. "Peace means no fights. No fights mean wasted potential. Wasted potential means a wasted life. And you heard what I said about my life being priority one, right?"

The Slayerdramon nodded as the Coredramon came over to him with a new Fragarach sword. "I know you know your stuff. I want you to be my second-in-command."

The stronger dragon man raised an eyebrow in response. "You sure? I'm not really a strategist or a big picture person," he replied, folding his arms. "I'm just good at killing rebels."

"You let me worry about that," Ishton replied, taking the thick, linked sword that could curl somewhat flexibly around a target. "I just need somebody I can trust. With your loyalty and the highest kill-count in your class, we'll already be off to a good start."

Tartarus grinned widely, his deep red eyes narrowing. "I'm just a humble proto-super soldier, High Lieutenant. I'm happy to kill anybody I'm sent to fight," he explained darkly.

Ishton shouldered his sword and looked at his Paildramon comrade. "Good. You'll get your chance...

"But for now, we start recruiting."


	3. Part 3: The Sinking Sun

**Part 3: The Sinking Sun**

Duroth sat at his desk in a large, torch-lit room, wide enough to fit three fully grown dinosaur digimon. Arado sat on the stone floor on the opposite side of the desk, with his blue, metal back facing a large window that could easily be flown in or out of. A cool breeze flew through the window from the east, from where the dark blue hue of dusk began to approach.

The two sorted through piece of paper after piece of paper. The work was long and tedious but it had to be done swiftly and precisely.

"Treason, treason, treason, dissention," Duroth spoke offhandedly, shuffling through the prisoner records before putting them in a very large but orderly pile which loomed over a much smaller one.

"More of the same here," Arado replied, using his metal beak to move his files to the stack. "Only about five percent of these are actual criminals."

The Dorbickmon sneered. "We'll be late at this point."

"They will care more about accuracy than punctuality," the MailBirdramon assured him. "It's not as if they have anywhere they need to go."

Duroth sorted through ten more pages before hitting the record of a prisoner that caught his eye. "Disobedience?" he asked, looking at the page. "One of our soldiers. Disobedience but not treachery. A Cyberdramon."

"It's rare, certainly. Most soldiers who disagreed went all the way and defected to the Rebels," Arado said. "But is that really relevant?"

As Duroth continued to read the prisoner's information, he became more and more fascinated. "No... but I think I'll visit him sometime..."

"I'll organize your rally in the meantime," the blue dragon replied, not taking his eyes off of the pages in front of him which he quickly scanned through. After about a minute, Arado looked up. "I'm finished."

"I have ten left," Duroth answered. "Then we can finally get this underway."

"I'll contact the jailor and ready our escort then," the MailBirdramon said.

"Very well. I'll meet you outside the wall," the red dragon said, watching as Arado exited out the window.

Duroth glanced over at the paper that had caught his eye, which he had placed to the side away from the others. "So, mysterious Cyberdramon, who _do_ you fight for...?"

-

The whole of the sun had nearly disappeared over the horizon by the time the Dramon showed up. The deep, hearty, orange radiance still touched the landscape, causing the waiting digimon to cast long shadows towards the calm cobalt of the night that slowly skulked over them.

The throng of Rebel prisoners walked briskly over the oddly serene battlefield, overjoyed that they would finally be free and reunited with their loved ones. Councillor Arado flew above them and nodded to the escort's leader, gesturing to tell his soldiers it was okay to let the horde of prisoners go on their own now.

The order went out, going down the ranks, and the Dramon soldiers backed off. There was some tension among the Dramon when the prisoners broke into a run towards the waiting Rebels, but Arado and the ranking officers assured them it was okay. The freed digimon plowed into the eager ranks the Rebels.

Commander Braon watched with a small smile as friends reunited with friends, fathers with sons, brothers with sisters – all in a chorus of laughter and cheers. Even those who were complete strangers embraced in merriment and euphoria. He looked up at his large friend Strom to try and gauge his reaction. His smile faltered when he noticed the Spinomon was looking at the reunited digimon with an almost forlorn expression. Braon wondered if it was because Strom felt he had nobody to reunite with.

The duo's attentions were diverted when Arado suddenly hovered down in front of them and nodded in greeting. "Good evening, Braon," he said.

"Arado," Braon responded with a nod. "Thank you for your willing cooperation in all this. Things are going smoother than we could have ever hoped."

"I wish we could say the same," Arado responded, considering the friction that had been going on back in the Dramon Empire. "I believe it's time for you all to fulfill your end of the bargain?"

The Justimon nodded. "Don't worry. It's not like we were going to skip town with thousands of Dramon POWs in tow," he replied with a grin.

The MailBirdramon let out a short snicker. "I might question your sanity if you did."

Braon's smirk widened and he turned to hail Arahon Alpha, who, in turn, relayed the order to the guards to start freeing the Dramon prisoners, though their weapons were to remain confiscated until further notice. Braon looked up at Strom. "Why don't you go and help?"

Strom nodded reluctantly and trudged over to the nearest group of prisoners. He picked up the blue form of a Veedramon and snapped the chains from his wings and wrists with two careful, yet powerful pulls. The Dramon gave a brief nod before flying over to Dramon escort.

"Well it's about time," a refined voice spoke. Strom glanced among the prisoners and saw an UlforceVeedramon with a smug and condescending disposition stand to his feet and look at him. The cobalt dramon looked at the Spinomon impatiently. "What are you waiting for, lizard? Free us, already. Some of us have places that we need to be. Or is that too much for your pebble of a brain to comprehend?"

Strom grit his teeth and reached over, grabbing the digimon known as Balion by the chains around his wings and lifting him into the air. "Keep talking like that and I'll free your head from your body," he warned in a growl.

Balion chuckled, unperturbed by the giant dinosaur's threat. "I would love to see that, big guy. Let's see how brave you are once I'm free of these chains," he retaliated.

"Play nice, you two," Commander Braon yelled over to them. "We're all friends now, aren't we?"

"Especially you, Balion," Arado chimed in. "Your father, Klain, isn't the least bit pleased with you at the moment. We wouldn't want to rile him any further, would we?"

Balion sneered and glared his red eyes into Strom. The Spinomon huffed and broke the UlforceVeedramon's bindings just roughly enough to make Balion stifle a wince.

"If you put so much as one scuff on my armour, lizard, you're going to regret it," Balion told him, sneering.

"Wouldn't think of it," Strom responded with an antagonizing grin. "And that's 'Mister lizard Avenger' to you, Dramon."

"Avenger?" Balion asked with a small laugh. "Some job you did avenging. I heard you lost four of your teammates in the process, didn't you? Bravo..."

Strom let out a savage snarl and raised his mighty claws above his head, ready to slam them down and crush the haughty dragon. Through his anger and impulses, Strom could feel pain coursing through his wounded hand, feeling as if he was getting cut all over again.

"Strom!" Braon's commanding voice scolded him, stopping the dinosaur mid-action. The Spinomon grimaced and turned around, looking at his Commander, who returned an angry, stern gaze. "Don't you dare..."

Strom slowly lowered his arm and looked back at Balion, who grinned at him smugly. "I would listen to him too, if I were you," the UlforceVeedramon said before turning and flying to join his comrades.

The Spinomon growled and freed the rest of the POWs in that group before turning and stomping back to Commander Braon, who shot him a scowl and a sharp elbow upon his arrival. Strom stopped and glanced down at his hand, putting one of his claws underneath the bandages to see if the wound opened up somehow.

Arado snickered slightly. "Please excuse Balion over there," he told them. "You'll find he's about as pleasant as a Numemon on a hot day."

"It's no problem," Braon responded, answering for Strom in case the dinosaur said anything else that might inflame the situation any further.

Arado nodded and looked out across the ranks. He saw that hundreds of Dramon were either walking or flying over to the center of the field where the Dramon he arrived with waited. After a few more minutes of waiting, he turned to Braon and nodded. "Thank you, Braon. I think that just about does it for today. Duroth gave the roster of prisoners to Arahon, I believe. We'll keep in close contact. I hope that one day we'll be able to help you all rebuild what has been lost in this war."

Braon nodded graciously. "Thanks again, Arado. Don't you come attacking us again, understand?" he joked.

The MailBirdramon smirked. "Me, personally? I'll try not to, Braon, but I can't promise anything."

The Justimon laughed and saw him off with a nod and a wave. As Arado flew off to meet with his comrades, Braon turned back to Strom. "Well, we can finally relax a little bit, Strom. And I do mean 'a little'."

Strom's face soured further as he looked south across the emerald fields, squinting as the sunset's intense light shined onto the side of his face. Braon's smile disappeared and he looked up at the large dinosaur. "Moping again, are we?" Braon asked, hoping to get a response from his subordinate. He didn't get one. The Justimon frowned and walked in front of him. "...Don't let what he said get to you, Strom. He's just a pompous bigmouth who's bitter about having to surrender."

"They only just died yesterday," Strom replied in a low, cold voice. "Sorry if I'm not all smiles, Commander."

"Damnit, Strom!" Braon flared. "It was a war we were fighting; people die!"

The Spinomon glared down at the Commander. "So that makes what I'm feeling unreasonable? I'm just supposed to shrug their deaths off and justify it by saying 'war is hell'?" he retorted. "Or would you rather I hid my emotions under a carefree exterior? Does that sound familiar, _Braon_?"

The next thing Strom felt was a solid slap across the face that he couldn't hope to avoid. His dinosaurian neck twisted as his head jerked sideway. Braon landed back on the ground in front of him, his features cold.

"STOP HITTING ME," Strom demanded, yanking his head back to glare at the Justimon.

"I'll stop hitting you when you stop giving me reasons to!" Braon shot back. "Smarten up, Strom! They're dead and I'm sorry that they are, but there's nothing you can do to change that! Understand? Nothing!"

The Justimon saw on Strom's face how his words affected him and it pained him to have to be so forthright, even though it was for the reptile's own good. Braon sighed. "...I don't like hitting you and telling you these things, Strom, but I care about you. I know it hurts, but you can't keep dwelling on the past... All you'll do is hurt yourself."

"'The past' was less than a solar cycle ago..." Strom replied grimly. "I'm not allowed to feel sad?"

"I didn't say that, Strom..." Braon replied softly. "I just don't want another burden on your back... hell, aren't those giant spikes and tree-sized blades enough?" he said with a small laugh.

A small smile managed to creep on the Spinomon's face before disappearing just as quickly. "I know, but..."

"What was it that you said Ragna told you?" Braon asked, though Strom couldn't tell if he was being rhetorical or not.

"'Put the past behind us and move towards our future'..." Strom replied, speaking the words fondly.

"Exactly," the tights-garbed hero said, putting his hands on his hips. "Think about it, Strom. They all died for this." Commander Braon extended his hand and gestured to the merriment among the digimon and the calm landscape. "_This_ is what they gave their lives for and I'm sure they have no regrets about it. They died for freedom and peace, Strom."

"I'd like to believe that..." the pensive Spinomon said.

"But you don't, do you?" Braon spoke. "We have to do something about that cynicism."

"Or your idealism."

"Hey, I'm still a down-to-earth guy, but if I didn't have a little bit of idealism, I never would have rebelled against my kind, would I? And it's that same idealism that made you leave the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, isn't it? So don't act like it's a bad thing."

"On the contrary," Strom said with a small smile. "Rebelling against the Dramon was the stupidest thing I've ever done. Everybody here is either a dimwit or a nutjob, thinking it was a good idea taking on that empire."

Braon laughed. "Well you fit _right_ in with us dimwits and nutjobs," he retorted, chuckling.

Strom snickered along with him and he sat down beside the Justimon in the dry blades of grass below.

Their laughter faded and a gentle breeze flowed through the field. The two looked off into the distance in a thoughtful silence where words need not have been said.

Finally Braon spoke up, though without turning to face his companion. "...Strom? I know you know the Palaeozoic Sovereignty members left this morning. I saw you lying awake when they were gathering," he explained. "...Why didn't you go with them?"

Strom closed his eyes and sighed through his nostrils as he heeded Braon's question. "You know why..." he answered, opening his eyelids and continuing to stare forwards towards the direction of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty.

The Justimon remained still, not needing to act to convey his emotions as he knew Strom was able to sense them through his voice alone. He was able to do the same with Strom.

"You thought Ranney would be there," he concluded confidently. "That's why you've been trying to stay away from camp both yesterday and today."

Wincing, the large orange dinosaur gave a brief nod, more to himself than to Braon. "So you figured it out..."

"I think I know you pretty well by now," the Justimon explained, his face remaining serious as the orange rays of light continued to reflect off his helmet. "You have to talk to him, Strom."

"So you've told me," Strom said with a roll of his gold eyes.

"I mean it..." Braon turned and looked up at him. "Or else one day it'll be too late and you'll regret it forever. ...Am I right?" he asked knowingly.

The Spinomon remembered Ragna and grimaced, wishing that they could have spoken just one more time, just so that he could have said those two words of regret. "Yeah... You are," he muttered in defeat.

"Great, so next stop for you: The Palaeozoic Sovereignty!" the commander announced.

"What?" Strom abruptly spat, turning down to face the scarf-wearing digimon to prove his vehemence. "You have to be joking! There's no way I'll ever go back there!"

"And why not?" Braon calmly asked in response, tilting his head and folding his arms. "That's your home."

"It's not my home," Strom growled heatedly. "There's no way I'd ever call a place like that my 'home'! They're selfish cowards who only care about their own wellbeing. They were willing to sit back and watch the Dramon conquer and plunder the world, just so long as they avoided _them_!"

"Strom..." Braon said, frowning.

"Don't try to tell me it isn't true! The only reason they got involved in the war was because the Dramon were at their doorstep with an army! If it weren't for that, they'd still be sitting back in their huts and caves gorging themselves. Why would I want to live in such a _selfish_ place?" he demanded. "Why do you think I left them in the first place?"

"All your brethren who fought in this last battle... the ones who _died_ fighting for freedom... you're going to call them selfish?" Braon asked in a level, mature tone. "Is that what you're saying, Strom?"

Strom merely winced and grit his teeth in response.

"I remember a certain Spinomon saying that he'd rather leave the Palaeozoic Sovereignty to burn than go and help it. He said that they deserved it..." Braon continued. "Remember that?"

He remembered it clearly.

/-/

"To dirt with the Sovereignty!" Strom sharply barked in response to the question of whether to go to the Palaeozoic Sovereignty or go to the Leomon Clans. His voice rang throughout the area as he addressed both the Avengers and the Commanders.

As he expected, he deservedly got surprised looks, since he was a dinosaur and a former member of the Sovereignty. "Those cowards won't help us... ever..." he said coldly.

"And how can you be sure?" Braon asked.

"I lived there, Sir. All they care about is survival. If they're at war, that will lower the chance of living, but if they're neutral, they believe that they'll have no animosity with the Dramons," Strom answered, rather unconvincingly.

"But what if they're attacked?"

Strom didn't know. Frankly, he was conflicted with his thoughts. Did he care if his old home was attacked? Strom simply stepped back and muttered, "I don't think they're worth the trouble..."

After several appalled reactions from the Avengers, Rai the gold Rapidmon stepped forward and faced the much larger Spinomon. He stared Strom in the face, refusing to back off. After a deep breath, Rai exclaimed, accusingly, "That's _your_ home, Strom! Don't you care whether or not they all die? What if the Dramon Empire gets to them first, then what'll we do? How are you gonna live with yourself if you let every Dinosaur in that Sovereignty die because _you_ didn't want to help them?..."

Before Rai could continue, Karasu, the rabbit's Ravemon friend, stepped up beside the Rapidmon and hissed in his ear, "Rai, are you trying to make him mad...?"

"Maybe I am!" Rai replied angrily, for all to hear, "This ne'er-do-well needs to learn that everyone deserves a fighting chance! ...Even if they're the most stubborn, numb-skulled Dinosaur Digimon on the face of the Digital World. I say, 'To the Palaeozoic Sovereignty'!"

"Strom, surely there are people you love in the Sovereignty," Ragna spoke as well. "People you want to save. Back at the Royal Hive, I realised something. The only just cause in war is fighting to protect those you love and care about. If you have any love for someone inside the Sovereignty, then you have a reason to save it."

\-\

It was their mixture of scolding and heartfelt words that caused Strom to submit, though he had figured they'd go to the Sovereignty with or without him. The Spinomon clenched his fist as his emotions rose into his long throat. Strom's eyes narrowed and he glanced away from his friend, remembering the teammates he had lost and their efforts to reason with him.

"So I wonder who the selfish one was, then..." Braon said, looking at Strom. "Rai and Ragna weren't wrong, were they?"

Strom didn't answer.

"Didn't you say the reason you joined the rebellion was to keep the Dramon from conquering the world? Well, the Palaeozoic Sovereignty is part of that world too, right? You don't really hate it. Why else did you still bow to Aegyptu and rally the troops in the Sovereignty?" the Justimon continued.

"SHUT. UP," Strom barked, facing him. A burning pain erupted in his good hand, causing him to stifle a growl of agony and press his palm against his chest. "_What the hell?_" he thought to himself, glancing down at his bandaged, healing claws.

"You don't hate it, Strom. You're just disappointed and frustrated with it and its insistence on neutrality. You just hide your feelings behind your wall of sarcasm, brusqueness and bitterness, keeping everybody else at arm's length because you don't trust them not to hurt you like Ranney did."

The Spinomon snarled deeply. "What do _you_ know about _me_?" he demanded dismissively.

"See? You're even lashing out at me, your best friend, because you know I'm right," Braon said calmly. "And what do I know about you, Strom? I know you better than _anyone_. I know that you grew up without any parents or siblings, that your champion form is Tyrannomon, that you barely had any friends until you met Ranney..." He eyed Strom and noticed that the dinosaur's eyes were moist. "...Shall I go on?" he asked.

"Well what do you want me to do?" he asked in frustration.

"I want you to give them a chance, Strom. ...Go back to the Palaeozoic Sovereignty," Braon told him softly. "It's not as if I don't know what it's like to feel betrayed by your own country. It's easy to forget, but I _am_ a Dramon. I felt the same way that you do at least one time or another. I hated the ones forcing my home down the merciless and brutal path it took. I came to hate my own country... but it _is_ still my home. That's why I know why you're saying the things you are. I've been in the same place as you."

"Commander..." Strom said, blinking and sniffing. "But... Why can't I just stay here?"

"Because Ranney's not here and you said that you'd talk to him," the commander replied. "With the war over, there's no more need for tactics. You don't want to constantly hang around with a guy who's immersed deep in Digital World politics, do you?" Braon offered him a grin.

"But, Braon, I-"

"I want you to go, Strom," he insisted gently. "Please, as a favour to me. Just... try it. It's not like we can never see each other again."

Strom sighed and closed his eyes, growing quiet for several moments. After some thought, the Spinomon got to a knee and slowly stood to his feet, outstretching his tail to balance himself. He looked down at Braon, his features neutral, but gave the Justimon a meaningful look. "I guess... I'll try it. Just to see if it's still awful."

Braon grinned and turned away from him. "Okay then..."

Strom walked around to face him, bending down a bit to get closer to his level. The sun touched the horizon in the distance, causing its orange light to reflect off their sides. A light breeze flowed across the grass, causing Braon's scarf to flutter slightly in the wind.

"...I guess now's a good a time as any... Don't want us to get all soppy," Strom told him, grabbing his moderately sized bag, which was filled with some food rations and a few other things, from the ground with his tail.

They smiled and looked at each other in profound silence. Commander Braon nodded. "I guess... this is goodbye then..." he finally said, outstretching his metal hand.

Strom's eyes trailed from Braon's face down to his hand. He slowly raised his arm in response, but suddenly gave a quick grunt and ran towards him. The dinosaur scooped up the Justimon in his arms and gave him a Spinomon-sized hug, pressing him tightly against his chest.

"A-ack! Strom...! Too tight!" Braon laughed, but eventually returned the friendly embrace.

"Thank you, Braon... so much," Strom said, slowly putting him down on the ground.

"For what?" he asked, brushing himself off and smiling slightly.

"For being my friend... My best friend," Strom replied, blushing reflexively at the heartfelt words he spoke. "You were there for me when I thought I didn't have anybody I could trust. You never stopped looking out for me."

Braon's smile widened and he nodded at him. "You're very welcome, Strommy..."

"Just be careful, Braon, okay? Without you, I'd be alone..." Strom said softly.

The Justimon walked forward and warmly placed his hand on Strom's arm. "No matter what happens, Strom... You're never alone." He looked at him steadily. "As long as you have friends, you'll never be alone... You'll always have us. Remember that, okay?"

Strom stared at him silently but nodded. He grimaced, feeling his tears reemerge in his large golden eyes. He quickly raised his arm to wipe them away.

Braon chuckled and patted Strom's leg. "I told you you were just a big softy on the inside, Strom."

"Shut up," Strom said, chuckling slightly as he dried his face. "Don't act like you're not gonna start weeping about this later."

Another laugh resounded from the Justimon. "Get outta here, Strom. I'll come and visit you, okay? I wanna see how things go with Ranney."

"If you'll be able to stand it there," Strom said with a small laugh. "...See ya, Commander. You might see me sooner than you think."

"We'll see," challenged Braon. "And it's just 'Braon' now. Take care of yourself, okay, you overgrown newt?"

Strom grinned and turned, looking over his shoulder. "Only if you do, you... whatever the hell you're supposed to be."

Braon smirked and gave a slight wave. "Bye, pal..." he finished meaningfully.

Strom nodded. "Likewise, Braon..."

With that, the dinosaur walked away from him, heading south towards the deserts of his home, accompanied by only the disappearing sun at his side.

Refusing to look back, Strom clenched his fists and started running until he finally disappeared from Braon's sight.

-

_The Dramon Empire's Capital_

_Three days later_

Ishton marched through the gates of the capital with steely determination, entering the great city whose architectural feats and wonder boasted to the world the ingenuity and dominance of dragons. At his side strode Tartarus, who lowered his hand from shielding the morning sun upon finding shelter behind the tall city walls. Following behind him were roughly thirty dramon, ranging from Champion to Mega level.

"Are you sure thirty's enough, Ishton?" Tartarus asked as he walked by some large houses.

The Slayerdramon turned his head to face his large Paildramon second in command. "Yes. I told Drykar to make camp with the others a ways away because if we brought too many of the others, we would bring too much attention to ourselves. Some people might even think we were staging a coup d'etat," Ishton replied, thinking about the two hundred other Dramon he recruited along the way who he left under the command of Drykar the Deckerdramon.

"Why don't we?" Tartarus suggested with a shrug.

"Don't be ridiculous," the dragon knight said. "We're not going to fight our own kind and I'm definitely not going to risk my plans and everybody we've recruited on that gamble."

"Just a suggestion," the Paildramon replied with a grin.

"Besides, I'd rather work _with_ whoever the newly appointed leader is, if I can help it... even if it was Admiral Jormungand," Ishton said.

"At least we know the oversized tadpole would actually help us. Do you really think Councillor Duroth will be so obliging in the likely chance he wins?" Tartarus asked, brushing by some passing dragon digimon.

"Doubtful," Ishton admitted, folding his arms. "But even if he doesn't agree, I think he's dim enough for me to manipulate."

"You think?" Tartarus asked, grinning.

The Slayerdramon nodded. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We can't rely on hypotheticals. For now, we need to raise a larger army. A medium-sized army of Dramon should be enough, given the state of the world. And when they see the progress we're making, our comrades will join us."

Tartarus' eyes narrowed. "_And if they don't, we'll just have to kill anybody who gets in our way._" The dragon digimon looked back at the thirty-some others and then turned to Ishton. "So what's the plan?"

"Tartarus, I want you to take the others and start gaining supporters. Start with the land and air soldiers. It might take some convincing to get them to come with us though," Ishton replied.

"And you?"

The Slayerdramon frowned as he crossed a street."There's somebody in particular whose strengths I want. His skill may rival even yours, Tartarus."

"May rival an ace proto super soldier?" Tartarus laughed. "Well, make sure you get him then. I'd like to see this guy in action!" The Paildramon turned around to look at the others. Before them stood a mishmash of dragon digimon. ExVeemon, Growlmon, Coredramon, Groundramon, Wingdramon, Seadramon, Paildramon, and Airdramon to name a few examples. "Okay, guys. You heard Ishton. Let's head out and gain us some support. Bribe, beg, _flirt_ if you have to! I don't care. Just recruit more followers."

Several 'okay's sounded out from the group and they hurried down the street. Tartarus looked at Ishton. "Well, best of luck to ya. Say, what's this guy's name, anyways? If he's a fighting ace like you say he is, maybe we've crossed paths."

"Erebus," Ishton answered.

"'Erebus', huh?" Tartarus asked. "Don't know 'im. Maybe we can duke it out sometime." He shrugged, gave Ishton a final smirk and turned to run after the others.

The Slayerdramon looked at the departing group with a stoic look of his face. Ishton wordlessly turned away, leapt into the air and flew towards the prison.


	4. Part 4: The Beginning of the End

_**Part 4: The Beginning of the End**_

A hot breeze swept across Strom's dense orange scales as he stepped from the forested grassland onto the desert steppe. It had been two days since he left the rebels' makeshift camp. He had travelled through grasslands and forests, making a stop near the Royal Hive for a night and some meagre supplies. Upon leaving, he continued through the forest (in which he had an embarrassing encounter with two trees that he managed to get temporarily stuck between) until he finally reached the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's border, which was essentially the edges of the desert.

He could already feel the arid air against him. It had been too long since he felt the soft grains of sand beneath his clawed feet... though he would never admit it. The Spinomon stopped and looked out across the ocean of sand as though he was hesitant to go any further.

"The Palaeozoic Sovereignty..." he muttered. "The neutral sovereignty. The _selfish_ sovereignty."

Strom sighed and stepped forward, willing himself to go further. "Damn it. Why am I doing this again?" the dinosaur digimon wondered as he easily climbed a dune. He reached the top of the sandy crest and turned around, looking back towards the sea of forests and grass. "_It's not too late to turn back... I could just go back to the Commander and the other rebels and help them there..._"

The bladed reptile growled and shook his head. "_No. Braon would kill me for sure... And as much as I hate to admit it, he's right. I have to talk with Ranney, no matter what way it turns out. If I don't, it'll drive me insane. I either have to forgive him... or make it clear that I never want to see him again. Either way, it's closure. I guess I'll just see how things go..._" he thought to himself, reluctantly tramping down the lee side of the dune.

"_I can't say I'll miss the cold of the north though. This is a place suited to cold-blooded reptiles like myself. At least in this place I won't turn into a Frigemon when I sleep outside,_" he mused as he walked. "Okay, come on, Strom. Get that brain of yours into gear; you haven't been away that long! Time to remember your desert tracking and navigation skills. Which way is the capital? ...And stop talking to yourself; you're starting to look crazy."

Strom scanned the horizon and sniffed the air for familiar scents. His nose curled upon finding only the scent of blood, which he knew was his own. The reptile looked down at his claws, examining the bandage caked with long dry blood. "_Maybe I should have gone with the others, even if they are obnoxious. ...No, if I get lost in my own desert, even I'll make fun of me. Time to focus! ...Hmm, that sand dune, kind of looks familiar._"

Hours passed and Strom was starting to grow weary from walking. He opened his toothy maw wide and shook out the last few drops of water from his metal canteen.

"Ugh," he growled, walking up the side of a particularly large sand dune. "I've been spoiled by how wet the north is. Go back to the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, Braon says. Talk to Ranney, he says. He didn't say my saliva would evaporate from the sheer heat," he complained. "Damnit, Strom. Everybody knows that night-time is the best time to travel the deserts, accustomed to the climate or not. Great, now you're talking to yourself... and I'm shifting between first and second person too. I need a drink and some rest or else I'll lose it for sure..."

The Spinomon then stopped, sniffing the air with enthusiasm. "Water! I smell water! And plants too," he declared. "Either that's an oasis or I really have gone crazy! ...Though with the way things have been, either is just as possible as the other."

He raced to the top of the tall erg and peered down. At the bottom of the dune was a pond-sized oasis with grass and vegetation around the water hole. "If that's a mirage, that's it. I'll go back and try to bunk with Broghild in the Royal Hive. I'll grow insect wings and prance around flowers if I have to," he muttered, starting to bound down the sandy incline.

Strom stopped in front of the vegetation and sighed in relief. "_It's real,_" he thought, squatting down so that he could refill his canteen with the oasis' water.

Upon filling it to its brim, he put the cap back on it and bent down. Without a second thought, he put his face in the water, his mouth wide open, and he tilted his head back to allow the liquid to run down his oesophagus. He felt some of the water leak through his teeth and run down his neck, but he cared not. Strom bent down and repeated the process until he was thoroughly refreshed.

The tired dinosaur then sat down in the shade of the palm tree's fronds. "_This almost feels familiar..._" he thought, leaning back against the trunk and staring off. He remembered the DinoRexmon that he once cared about. "_Ranney... Should I forgive you? Even after everything...?_"

/-/

The sun beat down on Strom's bladed back as he tromped through the desert, wandering aimlessly it seemed at times. It had been five days since he delivered King Aegyptu's message to Apollo and Artemis, the leaders of the Rebels of the Harmonious Republic. Strom was frustrated with the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, angry that they wouldn't fight against the Dramon who had recently begun their conquest of the world. That was why the disenchanted Spinomon decided to leave and go off on his own. Strom no longer wanted to be part of what he felt was the problem.

That was why he travelled the desert. However, Strom wasn't sure what to do. He was well aware that he was just one dinosaur. What could he do against an entire empire? He knew he could take on his share of Dramon, but it would only be a matter of time before they would overpower him. Strom certainly wasn't reckless. A part of him considered joining the Rebels, but Strom felt out of place even visiting their camp to deliver a message. He remembered all the stares and mutters directed at him, due to his sheer size and species. He also had his doubts about the Rebels' tactics and competence. He figured it was best to find out what he really wanted before doing anything rash. So that's he was trying to do.

Strom galumphed across the sand, a giant piece of salted meat hanging from his dinosaurian maw. He had bought the piece of meat from a travelling vendor. Strom had used what was left of his coins to buy it, so he planned on making it last as long as possible.

Ahead of the large, orange Spinomon was a wide refreshing-looking oasis waiting for him. The watering hole had an abundance of trees and shrubs growing around it. Some of the green flora was even taller than he was.

"_About time,_" he thought to himself. "_I'll take a break here._"

He walked over to the oasis and felt the cool grass tickle his feet as he entered the shade. Strom reached the edge of the pond and was about to bend down towards it when he heard the rustling of the thick bushes from nearby. Strom stopped and looked over. He saw nothing.

"_Guess it was the wind,_" he thought to himself, turning his head in the other direction. "_Probably-_"

"**STEALTH ATTACK!**" a higher male voice shouted at the top of his lungs.

Strom whirled around just in time to see a green blur charging him. Before he had time to react, he felt a pair of clawed feet slam into both his neck and jaw, causing him to gasp and reflexively send the slab of meat flying from his mouth.

The Spinomon crashed onto his side but promptly looked up... just in time to see an emerald scaled theropod catch the meat that he paid for in his mouth full of jagged teeth. Strom growled and scrambled to his feet, standing at his full height of about twenty feet. He glared down at the green dinosaur and took an intimidating step towards the green dinosaur who stood at about fifteen feet.

The DinoRexmon grinned proudly and dug the claws of his hind legs into the ground, excluding the massive sickle-like one each foot brandished.

"Who the hell are you?" Strom demanded, bearing his teeth at his attacker. "And give that back! That's mine!"

"My name's Ranney. DinoRexmon extraordinaire. And if it's yours, how come it's in my mouth?" the DinoRexmon responded as though he was speaking completely decisive logic.

The Spinomon couldn't help but stare at him blankly for a few moments. "...Because you stole it from me after attacking me from out of nowhere and screaming like a nutcase!"

"Yeah? Well, finder's keepers!" Ranney responded, his teeth still stubbornly clinging onto the piece of food.

Strom's eye twitched. "..You didn't find- I _BOUGHT_ THAT!" he yelled in annoyance. "Claw it over, you stupid DinoRexmon!"

"No way! I'm starving!" the DinoRexmon answered. "And haven't you Spinomons had enough to eat? You could all stand to lose a load of weight."

"Get your own!" Strom snapped. "And just because we aren't scrawny like your species doesn't mean we're fat. You runts of the dinosaur world lack both IQ _and_ strength!"

"Oh yeah?" Ranney goaded, narrowing his red eyes.

"Yeah!" Strom responded, doing the same with his gold ones.

"Then I challenge you to a fight to prove it!" the smaller green dinosaur challenged. "Winner gets this!" He pointed with one of his lengthy toe claws to the piece of meat in his mouth.

"You're as stupid as you are ugly," the Spinomon hissed. "That belongs to me! I don't have to fight you over something that I bought!"

"Fight me or it goes in the oasis. Then nobody can have it," Ranney bluffed, hiding the fact that he would never willingly part with the succulent portion of meat.

Strom growled in frustration. "Fine! If you want to get your butt kicked that badly," he said, clenching his fists.

"No attacks. Just a good old fashioned claw fight," Ranney said, placing the portion of food at the bottom of a nearby tree. "First one to get overpowered loses."

"You afraid I'd beat you otherwise?" the orange spinosaurus challenged, knowing the strength of his own attacks.

"You afraid I'll beat you _this way_?" the DinoRexmon countered, smiling.

"Let's just get this over with," Strom said, smirking.

"I'll show you which species is stronger," Ranney mocked, digging his claws further into the ground, preparing to charge.

"I'm sure you will," Strom taunted in turn.

"Put your money where your big, fat mouth is then! Ready? Three... Two... One... Go!" Ranney yelled, dashing towards Strom after giving the Spinomon time to prepare.

Strom smirked and charged the DinoRexmon in return. He raised his claws above his head, preparing to smash them down on Ranney as soon as the green dinosaur lunged at him. "_Typical DinoRexmon fighting style. Always going to-!_"

Before Strom could begin to bring his fists down, Ranney lunged at him quicker - and lower - than he expected he would. For a split second, Strom was amazed at the sheer distance Ranney was able to jump, but the awe was soon replaces by a numb pain in his gut as the DinoRexmon greeted him with a solid headbutt.

Strom staggered backwards and snarled in pain but swept out his leg and kicked the smaller dinosaur with a mighty blow in the side. Ranney was struck with enough force to fling him against the nearby tree. The fifteen foot reptile winced on impact, hearing a crack that he really hoped was the tree he hit.

He slid to the ground and looked up to see Strom charging him. The Spinomon lashed out with his fist, hoping to strike the DinoRexmon while he was still dazed. Ranney promptly ducked, using his relatively smaller size to his advantange by darting out to the side. Strom's claws impacted with the bark, with enough force to break the trunk in half and cause it to fall into the oasis with a splash.

"_I can't underestimate this guy. He's better than he looks,_" Strom noted to himself, looking around for his opponent.

Ranney quickly turned himself around and lunged at Strom, feet-first this time. The soles of his feet impacted Strom's chest and he kicked outwards using his powerful legs, sending Strom falling onto the spikes and blades jutting out of his back. The Spinomon snarled and attempted to catch Ranney with his claws but the green dinosaur jumped above his swipe. The DinoRexmon landed with his feet on Strom's neck, pinning him to the ground.

"Say 'uncle'!" Ranney said, grinning smugly.

"Don't have one!" Strom retorted, quickly raising his neck up with enough power to throw Ranney off him.

Ranney growled and dug his claws into the grass to stop himself from tripping, but it wasn't enough to help him when Strom's tail whipped him across the face and sent him sprawling.

"Ow!" he complained, feeling blood from where his tooth cut into his lip. The green reptile scrambled to his feet. "You're gonna pay for that!"

"You mean like I paid for that piece of meat?" Strom reminded him, also rolling onto his hands and knees so that he could get up.

Ranney charged him again. He kicked Strom in the face, knocking him back onto his side. Strom responded with a sturdy punch to the end of Ranney's emerald snout. This culminated in Ranney headbutting Strom's face, which ended up with Strom elbowing him off of him.

The two snarled deeply and stood back to their feet, glaring at each other. The DinoRexmon narrowed his eyes. "I underestimated you, Mister Spinomon."

"Likewise," Strom admitted, though not without reluctance. "And my name's 'Strom'. Think you can remember that?"

"A weird name like that? Hard to forget," Ranney replied.

Strom grunted and charged Ranney, going on the offensive. Ranney jumped at him, trying to use speed and downward momentum to make up for his smaller size. Strom, however, anticipated this and swerved slightly so that his opponent missed his mark. The Spinomon used this opportunity to catch his foe in a headlock as Ranney passed by his right side.

The DinoRexmon let out a shout of surprise and desperation, pushing his foot against Strom's chest to try to pry his head away from Strom's powerful hold. Strom growled, feeling Ranney's claws dig into his chest and arm scales as he tried to free himself, but he remained steadfast, not letting Ranney gain an inch.

"Say 'uncle'?" Strom mocked him.

"I don't know the meaning of the word!" Ranney shouted defiantly, now using both his feet to try to pull himself from Strom.

"That wouldn't surprise me," the Spinomon muttered.

Ranney let out a short growl before chomping into Strom's side. He yelled in shock and pain, releasing the dinosaur. "Hey! I know you're hungry, but damnit! Do I look like a piece of meat to you?"

The DinoRexmon let go and scrambled away, putting distance between himself and his opponent. "Yick. Not a very tasty one..." he said, sticking out his tongue to emphasize his words.

Strom growled. "Okay, you want to see what a real bite is like?" he said, running towards him to close the gap and prevent more lunging on Ranney's part.

"With your breath? No thanks!" Ranney responded, using his speed to run around Strom in an attempt to flank him. The Spinomon craned his head around, trying to follow Ranney's movements. The emerald theropod eyed Strom back with scrutiny. "_Damn... I can't attack him from behind with all those spikes and blades on his back. The only safe route is head on. And I'm getting tired._"

The orange reptile turned around to face him. Strom panted and gazed at him. "_Have to end this soon... He's wearing me out,_" he thought to himself. The Spinomon charged at Ranney, hoping to down him for good in this attack. He knew he had the size advantage, so if he could just pin him down...

Ranney eyed him carefully, watching Strom charging at him. "_If I can just trip him..._" he thought, waiting for Strom to close in on him.

Strom ran at him, reaching his claws forwards to grab the smaller dinosaur. Ranney, however, dove downwards to avoid his reach. In the process the DinoRexmon slammed himself into the Spinomon's fast-working legs. Ranney cried out in pain as Strom's knees slammed into his face, but he succeeded in tripping Strom up... causing the large reptile to fall on top of him.

As he began falling, Strom realized he was in trouble. He let out a shout and landed on top of Ranney, crushing him into the ground before rolling off of him and landing on his side beside him. The two both started wailing on each other in savage desperation. Strom lashed out, punching Ranney as quickly as he could and Ranney responded by kicking him furiously.

Both clawed, beat, kicked and bit at one another until the pair's actions finally became sluggish and their attacks weak. Strom groaned and lay his bruised head down on the grass. Ranney let out a whinge of his own and did the same. Both had blood leaking from their mouths and the nostrils on their snouts. Bruises were starting to form on their scales as well.

"...How about... we call it a draw...?" Ranney suggested, with a small smile forming on his swollen and blood-laced lip.

Strom weakly raised his head and spat out a mixture of saliva and blood before glancing at Ranney. "First... good idea you had today..." he observed, raising a claw to wipe the blood from his mouth.

"You really... pack a punch," the DinoRexmon said, forcing himself to get to a sitting position.

"You aren't a terrible fighter either," Strom replied. "I mean, I guess. You're not as bad as I thought."

Ranney grinned, but his stomach growled loud enough to match one of his own snarls. His eyes were drawn to the sizable piece of meat that they had been fighting over. Strom got to his hands and knees and followed Ranney's gaze, looking over to the food lying under the tree.

"What do we do about that?" he asked. "Neither of us won."

Ranney grimaced and turned his head away. "...You take it, Strom. It was yours and I shouldn't have tried to steal it from you," he told him, looking rather guilty.

"Well..." Strom began, very tempted to take Ranney up on his offer. "...Why did you want it so bad? It doesn't look _that_ good..."

The smaller digimon shook his head and got on his feet. "I've been travelling from the other side of the desert and I haven't eaten in three days... I kinda ran out of food because I ate too much in a short time. Didn't thing it'd take so long... It's fine though. You paid for it. If you could just point me towards the Palaeozoic Sovereignty capital..."

Strom nodded and stood to his feet, walking over and sitting down over by the piece of food. The Spinomon reached behind him and pulled out one of the massive blades from his back, holding the black grip of the blade with his claws. He then brought the giant blade down and cut the portion clean in half, dividing it in two.

Ranney watched in shock as Strom tossed half the slab over to him. He watched the salt-cured meat fall in front of him and looked back up at the Spinomon. "You're... giving this to me?" he asked him.

"You won't last if you don't eat," Strom said with an outwardly indifferent shrug.

The DinoRexmon's face lit up and he rushed Strom, lunging onto his chest and knocking him down. "Thankyou thankyou thankyou!" he sputtered, beaming and bowing his head.

"Gah!" Strom yelped. "Okay, okay! Don't mention it! Now off!"

Ranney happily hopped off of him and walked over to the food that he wanted so desperately. Strom chuckled to himself and sat up again. "Be sure to ration it, okay? Don't eat it all at..." He watched as Ranney tore off half the chunk of meat and downed it in one gulp. "...once."

The hungry reptile looked at him and frowned. "Why not? Won't you find more food where you're going?" he asked.

Strom raised an eyebrow. "Maybe, but you won't be there..."

"I won't?" Ranney asked. "Why not?"

The Spinomon blinked in confusion. "Wait... you _want_ to come?"

"I don't see why not," he responded. "I mean, you don't seem that bad for a Spinomon..."

"Well... if you want to..." he offered, still a bit surprised but not necessarily opposed to the idea of having a companion. "You're a strange one, Ranney."

"I'm told it's an endearing trait, admit it," Ranney replied with a smirk.

Strom chuckled. "Whatever. Let's get some rest before heading out, then. I feel like I got run over by a Brachiomon herd."

"Sounds good, buddy," Ranney replied.

"'Buddy'?" Strom asked, looking at him with further surprise.

"Sure! We're buddies right?" he asked, smiling enthusiastically.

Strom grinned a bit in response. "Sure..."

\-\

Strom had fond memories of that day. However, the day a couple months after was a particularly painful one. It was a day that would forever lurk in his memories.

While Strom slept, the Dramon officer, Gotungir, had come to Ranney with his loyal subordinate, Ishton, and faced the DinoRexmon with an ultimatum. He had to either betray Strom and surrender him to the Dramon Empire, who needed him for vital information on the Rebels, or else his brother who was in Dramon custody would be killed. After much deliberating, Ranney decided he needed to save his brother, though he made Gotungir promise that Strom wouldn't be killed in the process.

As a result, Ranney knocked Strom unconscious as he slept and allowed the Dramon to take him into the Dramon Empire as their prisoner. Strom awoke in the dungeons. Bound in chains and facing interrogation.

He could still remember what transpired there. Through the painful wounds and blows, the part that hurt him the most was the revelation.

/-/

"Where's Ranney and Ishton?" Strom growled, glaring between Gotungir, the UlforceVeedramon X, and Commander Daehak, the Chaosdramon, demanding to know where his closest friend and other travelling companion were. If he had woken up the Dramons' prisoner, then he could only assume that they had done the same.

Gotungir chuckled. "Well, I can account for one of their whereabouts," the blue dramon said, looking over his shoulder to a digimon standing in the shadows. Ishton stepped forward into the orange gleam on a torch for Strom to see.

"You?" Strom shouted, his eyes widening in confusion and anger. "_These_ were your people?"

The Slayerdramon nodded. "I'm afraid so, Strom. I really had you fooled, didn't I? Don't feel too badly; I even fooled myself a little bit. There never was a resistance group; don't you think our Empire would have found them?"

"I knew it... I knew we shouldn't have trusted you. But Ranney said that Scorpiomon-... Ranney! Where is he? What did you worthless salamanders do with him?" Strom demanded, balling up his claws and attempting to sit up, only to be halted by the chains.

Gotungir smirked. "Oh, we'll tell you, Strom, but firs-"

"You dumb dinosaur!" Daehak interrupted, stomping closer to Strom so that his face peered down directly over the Spinomon's. "Let me bring you up to speed... This friend you're so worried about, 'Ranney'... he was the one who betrayed you, Strom. His brother was our prisoner and he gave you up in order to save him from death."

"Commander! That was our bargaining chip!" the UlforceVeedramon X protested, trying to maintain his frustration through clenched teeth. "Ugh... No matter. It's true, Strom. Ishton and I confronted your friend last night and faced him with that ultimatum. Ranney and his brother are probably back in the Paleozoic Sovereignty by now."

Strom stared long and hard at Gotungir, in a state of shock. "...No. You're lying. Both of you are! Where is he? Bring him to me!" he ordered.

"Think about it, Strom..." Ishton said. "Think about how Ranney's been acting... what he's been saying the past day."

The Spinomon thought carefully. He did find it strange that Ranney suddenly didn't want to go to the Paleozoic Sovereignty like he planned... and the fact that he was acting strangely the whole day... and that he agreed with most of Ishton's suggestions...

Strom's eyes widened fully as the realization set in. "No... It can't be!" he shouted. "No! We're best friends! He wouldn't betray me! He... he..."

"He did," Gotungir said.

The Spinomon stopped moving, lying in silence for a few moments. He knew full well that it was true. Ranney had betrayed him. The pain of the revelation stabbed through his system.

Strom's heartbeat intensified. His brow furrowed as he burned holes into Daehak with his eyes. The corners of his mouth tensed and retracted, showing a full set of jagged teeth. It wasn't long until a savage growl came from the pit of his gut before quickly escalating into a roar of absolute fury. The Spinomon yanked the chains that bound him, trying with all of his might to free himself and whipping his tail around wildly. He rocked back and forth, trying to reach his head forward and snap at Daehak's face a few times, but ultimately failing.

\-\

The pain, anger and sorrow he felt in that moment had been unlike anything he ever felt before. And the effects still lasted to this day.

Strom's scaly brows furrowed. "_I don't know... I guess I'll have to see what he has to say for himself before doing anything. I'm not like those reckless Rebels, but that annoying green newt deserves a good punch._"

The spinosaurus digimon began to stand to his feet, getting ready to head out again, but it was then that his sharp senses of smell and hearing came into play. He heard a set of feet lightly touch down nearby. Strom turned around and saw the form of an armoured pterodactyl digimon standing on the opposite side of the oasis pond. He was dipping down to take a drink of water.

Strom grinned and stood up. "Hey, you!" he called out, startling the smaller dinosaur as evident by his squawk.

"Yeah?" the Pteramon asked, trying to keep his cool by acting like nothing happened.

"What are you doing?" Strom asked.

"Uhh... Getting a drink of water, I'm pretty sure," he responded, looking at the Spinomon with an 'are you an idiot?' expression.

The reptile rolled his eyes. "No kidding; I'm completely shocked. What are you doing out here?" he reiterated.

"Oh, I'm on patrol," he explained. "Have to make sure the Dramon don't try anything like last time."

Strom's grin widened. "Patrol, eh? Does that mean you're under orders from King Aegyptu?"

"Uh, yeah," he responded.

"So you know where the capital is from here?"

"Being a patroller, I think I'd get put on the pole if I didn't," the Pteramon said with a light smirk. "I'm Sarki, by the way. You?"

"Strom," the Spinomon replied, grinning in remembrance of the ways of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. "Yeah, you probably would."

"What are you doing out here?" Sarki asked, gliding across the water to him.

"I'm lost," Strom admitted sheepishly. "Trying to get to the capital."

The Pteramon smirked. "Well, hey. I'm on my way back from patrol anyways. Just follow me and you'll be back in no time."

The Spinomon raised an eyebrow. "You're not gonna lead me to a far off bog or volcano or something, are you?"

"Why would I do that?" Sarki asked.

Strom shook his head, thinking maybe he was being too distrustful. "Never mind. It sounds good. Lead the way..."

He sighed and thought to himself as his Pteromon guide started flying. "_No turning back now..._"

-

"Why were we plunged into the infernos of war?" Duroth's voice echoed from outside, where his rally took place.

"Why was this world forced to suffer?

"For _us_? If that's so, then why did so many of our brothers die?

"_Who_ told us to enslave and conquer? _Who_ sent our friends and families into a pointless war? _Who_ longed for conflict, oppressing and erasing those who called for peace and justice? The Three 'Great' Dramon, that's who! Bahamut, Tiamat and Krateamut. Imego, Jormungand, Daehak... Them and all the others who forced us into a long and costly war for no reason other than to satisfy their own greed and egos! This was a war of selfish desires!" he roared. His shout was soon met by a chorus of roars from many listeners.

"They were the ones who led us down a path of war and hate, alienating us from the rest of the world when we _should_ have been working _with_ the other digimon! Look where it got us: prejudice, restitution and death!"

In the dark of a musty cell sat a Cyberdramon, his head bowed. The humanoid dragon's black rubber armour caused him to blend in with the murky wall and the deep shadows of the confinement chamber. Due to the bronze coloured helmet that covered the top half of his face and snout, one wasn't able to tell whether his eyes were open or closed. The sound of metal rattling slightly could be heard, as around his wrists and ankles were shackles connected to durable chains that led behind him into the concrete wall, preventing escape on his part.

In silence, he listened to the words of the Councillor as they permeated into the cell from the small slit at the top of the wall he was backed against.

"I care not for power, wealth or titles. All that I care about is getting our great nation on the path that we were destined to walk. With our strengths, we are supposed to be leaders, not tyrants! I hope to bring this world into a bright tomorrow for _everyone_!" Duroth called out. "Is it not our duty to make the world brighter? Should we not work hand in hand to expunge the darkness and hate? Doesn't everybody deserve a life where they can be happy, useful and free?"

A fond but diminutive smile formed on the Cyberdramon's face as he took in the Councillor's words.

"_A world without darkness..._" he pondered, his smile growing a millimetre at the notion.

A set of weighty, metal footsteps caused him to be drawn away from his thoughts. His smile disappeared and he stared towards the door with an emotionless expression. A Slayerdramon stopped on the other side of the cell bars, turning to face him. Ishton's armoured, draconic form was accented by the torch light of the hallway.

"Corporal Erebus Artorius?" he asked, looking at the Cyberdramon.

He gave a short, calmed nod. "What do you want?" Erebus asked, a bit annoyed that he was being distracted from listening to Duroth's rally.

"I'm High Lieutenant Ishton. I just want to talk," Ishton responded, walking closer to the bars and staring inside.

The Cyberdramon raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, and leaned forwards slightly so his four red wings no longer touched the wall. "Talk? ...Why?"

"You heard that the war has ended, correct?"

Erebus nodded. "When the Rebel prisoners were released..." he responded.

"And how do you feel about that?" Ishton questioned.

"It took them long enough," was his short reply.

Ishton narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "You're chained up in here because you disobeyed orders, correct?"

Erebus grit his teeth. "I'm here because I refused to slaughter innocent digimon. I follow the path of justice and, in this world, apparently that's a punishable offence."

"Right..." Ishton muttered. "Well, I'm here for justice too. I plan to take up arms against the murderous rebels once again. I will destroy them for what they did to Gotungir and our kin. I want you to join me, Erebus. Fight with me for justice."

The Cyberdramon merely stared at him, almost like a statue if it weren't for the light expansion and compression of his chest with each breath.

"Well, what do you say? Take my hand and you'll be free," Ishton offered, gripping the Fragarach sword tightly in his hand. "We'll fight them in the name of justice together."

"That is not justice," Erebus explained lowly. "That is merely personal revenge. You tarnish the word and everything it stands for."

Ishton growled. "It _is_ justice!" he shouted, his voice echoing throughout the hallway.

"No. That selfishness could never be justice," Erebus replied resolutely.

The Slayerdramon's yellow eyes narrowed. "So you won't accept my offer?"

Turning his head defiantly, Erebus gave his answer. "I would rather stay in these chains than aid you in disrupting this new found peace."

"You talk about peace and how good it is," Ishton said, glaring at the prisoner. "But I know who you are, Erebus Artorius. Do you _really_ want peace? What would you do?"

The Cyberdramon looked up at him, not replying at first. "What would I do...?"

Ishton stepped closer to the bars, staring him in the face. "In peacetime, what would you do? What would you be good for? What do you have outside of this life?"

Erebus looked at him in silence, not supplying a vocal answer. He said nothing and turned his head away from Ishton to face the wall beside him, his chains clattering with the action.

"Exactly my point," Ishton spoke. "There's nothing for a tool of war in a time of peace."

"...A tool of war?" Erebus snarled, slowly standing up to glare at him.

"You're a soldier... and a bloody good one," Ishton replied. "But if you don't fight... your existence is meaningless. Fighting and destroying is the only thing you're good for, Erebus. Without it, you have no real reason to be alive..."

The Cyberdramon went silent. His clenched his restrained fists and the corners of his mouth turned down into a bitter grimace.

"Join me and you'll be free. You'll have a _purpose_. Don't you want that?" Ishton asked. "You just have to fight for me."

Erebus continued pondering in silence. "...Your anger and hate, High Lieutenant," he spoke. "You should be the one in here instead of me..."

Ishton growled. "I have the right to hate them!"

"Why?" the black dragon asked.

"They killed my master! My friend!" the Slayerdramon snapped.

"...How many of them have you and your master killed first? We drew first blood in this war," Erebus told him.

Ishton stepped forward and grabbed one of the bars with his free hand. "I'm a High Lieutenant, Corporal! I order you to fight for me!" he demanded, glaring at him.

Erebus walked over to the side of the wall and leaned against it, nonchalantly staring up at the slit from where he still heard Duroth's speech.

"Didn't you hear me? I said I order you!" Ishton reiterated.

"You're forgetting why I'm stuck in here, High Lieutenant," Erebus said dismissively. "Now leave me alone."

Ishton snarled in frustration and stormed off down the hall. "Your loss," he called back to the prisoner.

Erebus smirked for a moment before turning back to what passed for a window. The councillor's speech still continued on. He closed his eyes and listened.

"Stand by me, friends!" Duroth's voice boomed. "Help me lead us back onto our proper path! The path lit up by morals and freedom! Help me and I assure you that justice will prevail!"

Erebus bowed his head and folded his arms the best that he could. "_Justice will prevail. I will personally see to that._"

-

Next to the prison, the crimson, reptilian form of Councillor Duroth stood atop a wide, raised wooden platform in front of a crowd of over a thousand Dramon. The throng of digimon were gathered in a courtyard, surrounded by several tall, stony buildings. Word of mouth and paper were the only means for people to learn of the coming elections and their candidates, so rallies such as this were an absolute must.

As he paused for a breath, Duroth smiled to himself. Things were going much better than he had hoped. Aside from a collection of booers and hecklers, the things he was saying were generally well-received at this particular rally. He glanced up at Arado, who was hovering high amongst the Dramon below, surrounded by a collection of aerial digimon who wanted to see the rally from the air. The MailBirdramon gave him a nod to express that he was doing rather well.

He turned his violet eyes back to the crowd, who watched him with anticipation. Duroth in turn held himself with confidence and his words were ripe with fervour and passion. He let out a soft chuckle through his nostrils before inhaling and opening his toothy maw.

"So, I ask you, my fellow Dramon! What kind of world do you want to live in? A world of inequality and fear? Is that the kind of world you want? Sure, we may be at the top of the world hierarchy, but at what price? Did you _like_ ruling over the other digimon? Did it make you feel better about yourselves? Or did you feel _alienated_? The other digimon scowl at us, curse us for starting this war and looking down at them. Wouldn't you _rather_ live in a land where all of us can live together _without_ bitterness and vitriol? Isn't _that_ a better world to live in?" he asked, looking at the Dramon standing in front of him.

"And what of this war that we finally managed to end? My opponent Jormungand wants to continue it and wipe everybody who isn't a Dramon off of the face of the earth! Is that what you want?" Duroth spoke firmly. "I don't believe it is. I do not doubt that many of you are good, kind digimon. I understand that many of you are afraid. From years of tyranny, I certainly don't blame you. I know many of you are scared to leave our old ideals behind and try to meet the other Digimon on common ground. This, I don't blame you for either. There is always an air of uncertainty when letting go of the unfamiliar."

Duroth gazed across the horde. "Where will we end up? Are we making the right decision? Shouldn't we stick to what we know works?" he asked. "These questions often arise when we consider undergoing change, but I assure you, we _must_ change if we are to survive. That has always been true and it still proves so now. We as _digimon_ should know this. We change each time we digivolve. Had we not, we would still be Fresh-level digimon: frightened and unable to defend ourselves, much like the situation we're in now. Some say that this change will weaken us, but is that really the case? Showing how we can change; doesn't that prove to the world how _strong_ we Dramon have become?"

Cheers of agreement erupted from the crowd, laced with several boos and insults. The Dorbickmon stepped forwards on his platform and clenched his fists. "Change is a necessity, my friends! The old ways and those that clutch stubbornly onto them have betrayed us! Look at how our – no, _their_ - greed and pride ruined us! All the bloodshed and heartbreak that could have been avoided! And what have we gained from it all? _Nothing!_ Many don't want to admit it, but they know the truth deep in their hearts!" he shouted before taking a deep breath.

"It's our right to rule over the weak! It's the rebels fault for not submitting to us!" a Dramon protested from the crowd.

"Is it, though?" Duroth replied. "Where does it say it is our right?"

"You said it yourself! It's the survival of the fittest. Those who adapt grow the strongest whereas those who are too weak fade into dust! And we Dramon are the ones that have adapted the best in all fields!" the ExVeemon insisted. A few scattered shouts of support sounded out amidst the crowd.

"The survival of the fittest..." the red dragon echoed confidently. "If that is true, comrade, then tell me: why did we lose the war?"

This shut the digimon up and caused him to fumble for an answer.

"Believe me when I tell you that I am on your side," Duroth reassured. "I have the best interests of our people in mind. Now that the war is over, we are in an unfavourable position in the world. They all despise us, but the solution is not to resist and fight back. We have to show them the true Dramon spirit and we can only accomplish this by reaching out and opening relations with them. Helping to rebuild and integrating ourselves so that we can all accept each other. I want to open up trade with them so that we can revitalize our economy."

"Can you believe the garbage he's saying?" Tartarus said to Ishton, both of whom were watching from the back of the mob. "And everyone's eating it up just because he calls it cake."

"There's still hope for Jormungand," Ishton replied. "Despite his personality, his ideals are close to many Dramons' hearts, especially the soldiers."

"We should get rid of Duroth," the Paildramon retorted.

"And make him a martyr?" Ishton asked, frowning. "No... Even if he does win, I can still use him."

A Veedramon that they recently recruited started walking forwards, making his way through the crowd. Tartarus looked back at Ishton. "You sure? Be careful of that silver tongue of his."

"Idealists like him are straightforward and naive," the Slayerdramon reassured him. "They're easily manipulated."

"I just hope he's not like that Erebus guy you mentioned or else we're screwed," he joked. Ishton shot him a glare and Tartarus answered with an indifferent shrug, looking back towards the distant Dorbickmon, who continued his rousing speech.

"A world of harmony and peace!" he spoke. "Living in that... wouldn't you call that a happy life? No more worrying about whether those you care about will die in a pointless war! No more holding your tongue for fear of punishment! Isn't that a world you would like to live in?"

Duroth smiled. "Even within our empire! Blacksmiths and soldiers should be treated no different from aristocrats and nobles! If you vote for me, I assure you, I will see my goals through to the very end. I will reform the very earth we walk upon if that's what it takes to ensure a good life for all of my fellow Dramon citizens! This is how it _should_ be! Do each of us not deserve that? Help me, by giving me your vote! I will be eternally grateful and I will reflect that in the policies and reforms I create."

"You won't get the chance!" a voice shouted out from nearby.

Duroth turned to the side to see the large, azure form of a Veedramon lunge onto the platform and race towards him with rage in his eyes. "What are you-?" the Dorbickmon stammered, reflexively stepping back a step.

"I'll kill you, b*stard!" the Veedramon roared as he charged Duroth, blue flames brimming behind his teeth.

"Look out!" Arado warned, swooping downwards, even as two guards moved after the assailant. "_Plasma Cannon!_"

The metal dragon opened his maw wide and shot a powerful burst of plasmatic energy down towards the platform.

The snarling Veedramon closed in on Duroth, the claws of the blue dragon at the ready. "_V-Nova Bl_- AHH!"

The blast of power exploded around the dragon's back, parting as it hit him and throwing the Veedramon into an unceremonious faceplant. His charred back smoked and he crumpled to a heap on the charred platform before Duroth's feet.

The Dorbickmon relaxed and looked up at Arado, giving him a gracious nod. Duroth turned his head down to face the two Cyberdramon guards who ran over. "Take him to the prison, please. Thank you," he said.

Duroth faced the side of the platform, watching as the two guards took the attacker by the arms and hauled him away. Without turning to face the crowd, he began talking again as he observed the unconscious Veedramon. "_These_ are the sort of sentiments that I'm hoping to erase for good. Jormungand is the type of digimon who would only add to the fire. That is not what I-"

"Behind you!" Arado's voice shouted in uncharacteristic panic. Several gasps whispered out from the crowd.

"FOR THE PRIDE OF THE DRAMON EMPIRE!" a dark, snarling voice roared out from behind the momentarily perplexed Dorbickmon.

Before Duroth could turn his head more than a few degrees, he felt a blinding pain burn into the side of his back. His spine arched back and he couldn't help but stumble forwards, his eyes wide. He let out a reflexive snarl of excruciating agony as the pain only increased, his roar drowning out the gasps and shouts in the crowd.

Duroth looked down to see the blood-soaked tip of a steel lance exit his crimson scales and continue going until there was two feet between the end of lance and his body.

"DUROTH!" Arado roared in horror, forcing himself to race towards him at full speed.

Behind the stunned, impaled Dorbickmon, stood the blue and white scaled form of a seething AeroVeedramon. The Gram lance that had run through Duroth was held firmly within his claws.

Duroth's trembling arms clutched the long, bloody shaft of the Gram in front of him and he gazed down at the grizzly wound in pain and shock, watching as his blood trickled down his chest and onto his right leg. He let out a tortured gasp and struggled to keep himself from collapsing to a knee.

The AeroVeedramon was forced to let go of the lance as Duroth attempted to turn around to face him. The amateur assassin grinned in satisfaction and took a step back, ready to make his escape.

When the Dorbickmon turned to face him, his smug smirk vanished.

Duroth let out a roar of fury and unexpectedly reached his bloody right hand out to grab the AeroVeedramon by his face, digging his claws deep into his blue scales. The baleful Dorbickmon gave a burning glare into the Dramon's shocked and terrified eyes before pushing his left arm forwards.

With his left arm, he grabbed the AeroVeedramon's long right horn and unceremoniously ripped it off and gripped it in his hand. Before his attacker could so much as utter a cry of pain, Duroth rammed the spike into the AeroVeedramon's neck and released him, before taking a few steps backward. The Dorbickmon snarled deeply and watched as blood spurted in intervals from the AeroVeedramon's wound down onto his white chest as the stunned assassin gripped his neck and staggered in shock.

With the large and weighty Gram still impaling him, Duroth gasped and heaved, but raised his arms above his head. "_Ty-...TYRANT... COLLBRANDE!_" he roared. In an intense, orange flare, he summoned a mighty weapon in his hands. A giant, flaming sword formed in his trembling hands, its blaze roaring with anger as he brought it down so that it was level with his dying attacker.

He struggled to move his arm over the tip of the lance, but managed to hold the Tyrant Collbrande in his claws as he started to charge. Duroth gave a final roar and raced forward, as fast and as gracefully as he could with a massive lance in him. With a savage thrust, he drove the wide, blazing sword deep into the AeroVeedramon's chest, forcing it forward so that it went all the way through. The flames of fury surged forwards, engulfing the AeroVeedramon in an inferno that swept over him and ripped him to ash and data.

Duroth extinguished his sword in a flare and collapsed to his knees, the weight and agony of the lance finally overcoming his adrenaline and rage.

"Duroth!" Arado said, landing beside him worriedly. He crouched down and offered to help the Dorbickmon up.

Duroth gave a dismissive but grateful wave to Arado and slowly got to his shaking feet on his own. He gave a stifled growl of pain and turned to the speechless mob of Dramon. "_Who else_ wants to try?" he challenged, looking out at the crowd. His reply was silence.

The incensed dragon clenched his blood-laced fists in agony and determination. "Who calls us weak...? Who wants to try... to break our will and our... desire to change? You'll find... it's not so _easy_!" he panted in his tearing draconic voice, his burning yellow eyes blazing with anger and passion. "You cannot stop... our _destiny_!"

As his blood continued to trickle, Duroth let out a final roar to the onlookers, raising his fist high. The crowd erupted in cheers and roars of support, many of the dragons raising their clenched fists and claws in response. The courtyard resonated with thunderous cries and bellows.

"DUR-ROTH! DUR-ROTH! DUR-ROTH!" they cheered in unison, raising their right arms high with hope.

A small, tranquil smile emerged on the Dorbickmon's pain-wracked face as he lowered his arm, placing it on the lance sticking out of him. He slowly turned his head as though it were weighed down by boulders. "Arado..." he whispered weakly, his eyes becoming half-lidded and tired. "Get the... I..."

His violet irises rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed heavily onto the floor of the platform, landing on his side.

"Duroth!" Arado yelled, shouting his name with the others, but for a different purpose. He hurried to his side and looked around. "He needs medical attention! _Now!_"

As several dramon started running over, the MailBirdramon looked down at the bleeding dragon, doing well to remain calm despite his inner worry. "Damn it... Don't die, Duroth. Not when you're so close. Dreamer or not, you have what it takes. You just need to live long enough to prove it..."


	5. Part 5: How It Should Be

_**Part 5: How It Should Be**_

"That damn imbecile!"

Ishton snarled lowly as he stormed down the stone road, heading past the barracks. Beside him walked Tartarus, staring at him calmly. "Who, what's-his-name? The Veedramon from our group who attacked Duroth?" he asked.

"Yes," Ishton growled, not looking back at the handful of other dramon following them. "He got himself captured. If they interrogate him and he talks about us, our plans could be in jeopardy. I wasn't ready for Duroth and his sympathizers to find out about us just yet; not before I've had the chance to manipulate him."

"Hey, he might not talk," the Paildramon said to him, clenching and unclenching the metal claws of his gauntlets. "And the way that Duroth's eyes rolled into the back of his head, the councillor might be as good as dead and our problem solved."

"I'm not so sure..." Ishton spoke dourly.

Tartarus looked at him. "You don't think his data's gonna go and delete itself?"

The armoured Slayerdramon shook his head. "He's too stubborn for that..."

"And you're sure you don't want me to sneak in and put him out of his misery?"

"You saw how the mob cheered his name after he single-handedly took out that AeroVeedramon. I don't want to make him any more of a martyr than those two did already," Ishton explained.

"I could easily get rid of him. They'd just assume he died of his wound," Tartarus offered, grinning at the prospect.

"After the attempt on his life, I doubt Councillor Arado would leave his side."

The Paildramon narrowed his blood-hued eyes. "Then I'll kill him too."

Ishton growled. "No, Tartarus. Especially since we could use Duroth's strengths," he said. "Didn't you see the way he riled the people? His charisma far surpasses mine. If I could get him to our way of thinking, or at the very least, convince him to act on my carefully planned suggestions, we could have the whole empire at our disposal. I'd be the digimon behind the digimon, pulling his strings to my very whim."

Tartarus smirked maliciously behind his helmet. "_Fool..._" He turned back to face Ishton. "Maybe you should wait until the election ends. He hasn't won yet and Jormungand still has a wide base of support; people like us who want the Rebels crushed and powerless beneath our feet. Shouldn't you throw your support his way?"

"He's a good High Admiral, but I'm not sure I trust him with an empire," Ishton replied. "Duroth is a politician."

"And if you're going to be the one pulling the strings, don't you want a brainless schmuck to be your puppet?"

Ishton remained silent for a moment. "I've thought this through, Tartarus. Whoever wins, I have a plan for them both."

"Yeah, whatever," Tartarus said with a shrug. "Anyways, you may not be as charismatic as Duroth, but you better muster some up because you've got a load of dramon whose hearts need incensing in a few minutes."

The Slayerdramon nodded. They walked into a small courtyard between one of the barracks and a tall look-out keep where a few hundred Dramon soldiers awaited him eagerly. "_The word spreads fast,_" he mused to himself.

"Is that the guy?" the red draconic form of an Examon asked. "Wait, aren't you High Lieutenant Ishton from Gotungir's old team before he was promoted?"

"I am," Ishton replied, walking up to the large crowd, inciting chatter among the ranks.

"And you want to go against the Councillors' wishes and strike back against the Rebels?" another dragon digimon asked.

"I do," he responded, voicing his words with clear and confident determination.

"Wouldn't that technically be treason?" the Examon asked.

"We don't have a ruler yet, now do we?" the Slayerdramon answered him. "And should Jormungand win, he'd agree with our stance."

"Still... He has a point," another dramon said.

"But our cause is a just one!" Ishton spoke heatedly. "The Rebels think they've defeated us. Soon they'll be pushing us around, holding our loss over our heads from their ivory towers!"

The crowd of Dramon quieted down, listening to the gallant dragon as he continued, some nodding in agreement.

"They claim that _we're_ the monsters!" the Slayerdramon snarled. "They act like we're mindless killers. Don't we have those we care about? Those we love? They pretend to have the moral high ground but they're worse than us! Them and their so-called 'Avengers'... as though they have a monopoly on sorrow and anger..."

Tartarus watched with a grin as the crowd started to become Ishton's, hanging onto his every word.

"They go on and on about avenging, but what about _us_?" Ishton demanded. "What about _our_ friends, _our_ families, _our_ lovers? What about the ones that _they_ butchered! Are we not allowed to take revenge for the people _we_ care about?"

Shouts of wrath and agreement sounded out from the dragon digimon.

"They can play the victim all they want, but we _all_ know that they murdered our kind! Many of them took delight in it! They laugh at our dead and say they deserved it!" Ishton roared. "I won't stand for this insult! They brutally killed our friends, families and comrades without a second thought and this _cannot_ go unpunished! Those murderers and butchers deserve the same painful deaths that they inflicted on so many Dramon!" He closed his eyes and remembered his master, Gotungir, before snapping them open and glaring at his fellow dragons.

"We will be the swords that cut them down to size! We will stab with spears of justice and burn them with the flames of vengeance! We are Dramon and they deserve nothing more than to crumble beneath our mighty feet! Are you with me?" Ishton asked, bearing his jagged teeth.

Roars and hollers of support erupted from the crowd.

"We'll obliterate every last one of them!"

"They should crawl back in their holes where they belong!"

"We're with you, Ishton! Damn the ones who sought peace with them! For the glory of the Dramon Empire!"

"I'll make you suffer for killing Jarik, you Rebel ba_s_tards!"

"My whole family died because of their attacks! They need to pay!"

"Yes! Kill the Rebels! Kill them all! Kill every last one!"

Tartarus' dark grin curled wider beneath his metal mask as he observed the hatred in their hearts. The support they were gaining was greater than he expected.

Ishton stepped towards the crowd, raising a hand high. "Then we will fight together! Spread the word and we shall right this world and make it ours again! Not for ourselves, but in the names of those we lost! Together we will see justice and victory!"

-

Night fell over the desert, the sun having recently set on the horizon. As Strom followed Sarki, his Pteramon guide, he looked into the still water of the massive oasis ahead of them. In the tranquil liquid of the lake-sized pond, Strom could see the reflection of two of the bright moons that rested in the starry sky above.

Strom looked up at the stars while walking through the sand towards the mountainous terrain ahead of them. "_It seems so peaceful up there..._" he mused.

Sarki looked back over his fixed wingspan at Strom. "Hey, we're almost there! You've been here before, right?" he asked the Spinomon.

"Huh?" Strom asked, bringing himself to attention. "Oh, yeah. That's Oasis One, right? The one used for gathering drinking water."

"Yeah," Sarki replied with a nod. "And Oases Two, Three and Four are the ones used for bathing and washing stuff. Wouldn't want to get those confused, even if you Spinomon _do_ sanitize them every night by boiling them with your Blue Prominence attacks."

Strom grinned. "Yeah. I sure missed that; having to get up in the middle of the night for sanitation duty," he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, you guys have it so tough," the Pteramon scoffed. "Construction and military service is a piece of cake for you guys."

"And patrolling is _so_ hard with wings," Strom retorted good-naturedly.

"Whatever," Sarki said, rolling his eyes.

The two continued to pass the giant watering hole, continuing towards the capital. At the distance they were at, they could now see the city perfectly. The ruin-like city was built into the side of the craggy mountains. The vast city was filled with massive huts and abodes, some made of stone and some made of clay. All were large enough to accommodate the largest of dinosaurs. Even from the outskirts of the city, Strom recognized the massive palace big enough to fit King Aegyptu Aegyptus, the Spinomon that stood at about forty feet – twice Strom's size.

"Finally," Strom muttered. "A place that has buildings that I can actually fit in."

"Huh? I assumed that you were from around here," Sarki spoke, flying beside the Spinomon's head.

"I am," he explained. "It's just that it's been awhile."

"So you know that you have to pitch in to gain the benefits of living here, right?" the armoured pterodactyl digimon asked. "'Mandatory contributions towards the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's wellbeing, such as military service, construction, trades and foraging, in exchange for protection, peace, and, most importantly, food.' Everyone eats and nobody hitches a free ride; it's a fair system from my point of view."

As he stepped onto the beaten path, Strom nodded, albeit grudgingly. "I guess..." he answered. "And, yes, I know most of the general rules of the Sovereignty."

The two walked up a wide road, large houses on each of their flanks. "So you're not gonna try to challenge King Aegyptu for leadership or anything, right?"

Strom laughed at the idea. "Yeah, that sounds like me, alright. One, I'm not that selfish, arrogant or ambitious. Two, if I was, he's still twice my size; he'd annihilate me." He frowned and looked away from Sarki, thinking about the strong Spinomon leader. "_Besides, he's about the closest thing I have to a father... which is pretty sad when you think about it,_" he thought to himself.

"Well that's good," Sarki replied, turning his head to face Strom as he was unable to fly backwards. "Because King Aegyptu's not just the strongest, but the most capable too. If he wasn't he'd be forcibly overthrown by now. He may be harsh at times, but he has the best interests of our nation in mind. That's why he kept us outta the war until the Dramon attacked us."

Strom scoffed, more at the last sentence than anything else. The two walked by the large, open air marketplace, which was covered down with canvas for the night.

Sarki continued flying, though at a decidedly more relaxed pace now that they were in the city. "What did you do here before you left?"

The Spinomon's scaly brows furrowed. He was getting a bit annoyed that the questions were straying closer to his past.

"So, where are you headed, Strom?"

"Ugh. I don't know," Strom groaned. "Aegyptu would probably have me tied to the pole for public humiliation or even lashings if I woke him up at this time of night. Maybe I'll just sleep in this clearing over here and get things settled with him in the morning."

"Good luck," the Pteramon said, beginning to break off from him. "I'm gonna head back to my squad's barracks."

Strom nodded sleepily and started walking towards the sandy clearing outside of the giant palace adorned with gold-digizoid pillars which helped to support the massive building. He craned his long head towards the departing Sarki, who was flying off down a separate road. "Hey, Sarki!" he hailed. He frowned, momentarily having trouble expressing his gratitude. "Err... Thanks for the help."

Sarki looked over his wing, glancing back at the Spinomon, and grinned. "No problem. Always glad to help a fellow dino out. Might see you later, Strom."

The orange and beige dinosaur frowned and walked over the sandy field. He got to his knees and settled in on his stomach, quite used to sleeping on the ground by this point. Strom glanced in the direction Sarki had flew and saw that he was gone. After a small grunt, he closed his eyes and relaxed his weary muscles.

"_Maybe... they have changed, after all..._" he pondered silently. "_Maybe I should too..._"

Without any further moments of deliberation, he fell asleep.

-

The moons' rays seeped through the window of the dim, candlelit room, the white beams reflecting off of Arado's metal wings. Arado watched, his face expressionless, as the unconscious Duroth lay motionless in a bed, his only movements that of his rising and falling diaphragm. The Dorbickmon's entire chest was wrapped in thick bandages. Data-infused blood dripped into his arm from an IV.

The MailBirdramon's placid gold eyes remained fixed on where Duroth's severe wounds were. Each time that Duroth took a breath, Arado was concerned the movement might rip open the stitches and cause him to bleed profusely. He was ever vigilant, making sure that no spots of blood suddenly appeared beneath the bandages.

It was then that he saw the long, black serpentine body of a Hisyarumon float in. "Doctor," Arado greeted, glancing at the form of the eastern dragon for no more than a split second.

"Councillor Arado, go home and get some rest," the Hisyarumon physician told him. "The only difference your presence here will make is the possibility of contaminating his wounds with your engines' exhaust."

"I'm not an inbred newt; I made sure to fully turn off my engines before entering the hospital," Arado retorted. "And since that was the only difference my presence here made, then there's no reason why I can't stay."

The physician sighed, shaking his head. "Very well," he said, floating over to check on his patient. "To be blunt, it's a miracle he lasted this long. He nearly fell into shock at the time he lost consciousness. A Gallantmon's entire Gram lance in and out of his chest... Most don't survive."

Arado grimaced, but smiled lightly, staring at Duroth's body. "He's a stubborn dragon if nothing else... Much too determined to let himself die now."

"I can only hope you're right," the Hisyarumon replied, floating over to Duroth. He checked under his eyelids, holding one of his bright digicores in his hand in front of the Dorbickmon's eyes to check for eye movements. "His fate is in his own hands now."

A soft groan escaped Duroth's nostrils. The physician raised an eyebrow and hovered back, removing his claw from his face. The red dragon's eyelids tensed and fluttered slightly.

"Duroth!" Arado said with excitement tingeing his voice. He walked over to the other side of Duroth's bed and peered down with him.

Snarling with pain, Duroth opened his eyes. He took laboured breaths as he tried to regain his vision. Above him he saw the blurry outlines of a MailBirdramon and Hisyarumon's face. "A... Arado..." he gasped, his voice dry and more growly than usual.

"You stupid, horn-brained knucklehead," Arado responded, half-scolding and half-chuckling. "You had me worried. It's just too bad the lance didn't hit your thick skull instead; it would have bounced right off."

"Sor... sorry," Duroth apologized with a very weak grin before closing his eyes.

"Well... At least we know your weekly sparring sessions have paid off," his friend said with a light grin.

"I... guess," he replied, wincing.

"Duroth, how are you feeling?" the Hisyarumon doctor asked.

"Like he just had a Gram lance run through him, I'm sure," the snarky dragon told him.

The Dorbickmon nodded softly. "In pain... but I'll survive..." He slowly opened his eyes again and angled his head towards his friend. "How long have I...?"

"Just since this morning. Don't worry; I have people taking care of our plans. You just have to focus on recovering for now," Arado insisted.

"Not - rrgh - _all_ of our plans..." Duroth protested.

"He's right, Duroth," the physician told him firmly. "You won't be doing anything until that wound of yours heals. There's no sense surviving that attack only to die from recklessness."

"Especially when you're so close to our goals," Arado added.

Duroth frowned, but nodded reluctantly. Wincing, he relaxed his muscles and lay in his bed. "You should go, Arado... Worrying... doesn't suit you," Duroth said with a half-chuckle.

The MailBirdramon smiled. "But you're always telling me to try new things..."

Despite his pain, the Dorbickmon grinned. "Thank you, Arado... We'll talk - rmph - tomorrow..."

Arado nodded and turned to the doctor. "Make sure he rests."

The Hisyarumon nodded before looking at Duroth. "Your condition is stable at the moment. In the morning, I'll request the healing services of a Goldramon, but for now, you need to get some sleep. I have some other patients to attend to, so I won't be far. If you need me, just shout."

"Yes, Duroth. And be sure to channel your inner dinosaur when you do it," Arado said with a small smirk as he turned to walk outside the wide doorway. The Hisyarumon followed him, floating to another room and leaving Duroth to himself.

As they vanished, the crimson drake raised his head and looked down at his heavily bandaged chest. He let out a gasp of pain and allowed his head to drop back on the pillow. "_I promise I'll rest, Arado. But first, I need to do one thing..._"

-

Duroth hobbled down a hallway filled with nought but shadows and the dim glow of a torch every twenty feet. With his left hand, his claws clutched his healing wound while his right held up the bag of data-laced blood that dripped into his arm. With each step, pain shot through his chest and back. In Arado's absence, his body was yelling at him to stop being stubborn and return back to bed to heal.

However, the Dorbickmon ignored its protests and slowly dragged himself down the hall of stone and metal bars. To his right were cells upon cells, these particular ones suited for smaller digimon such as himself. Many were empty as they had previously been occupied by captured rebels, but every so often the shuffling or snores of a prisoner could be heard.

His sweat-laced, ruby scales sparkled orange as he passed by a torch. The long, gold and brown form of a sabre-bearing eastern dragon flew behind him. Around the OwRyuumon's neck hung a key.

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" the jailor asked him, eyeing his bandages. "From what I've heard, you were impaled."

"Indeed I was," Duroth responded quietly, speaking through teeth gritted at the pain he felt. "And I won't be long..."

"And the prisoner?"

"I _am_ authorized to do with him what I wish. The ones who sentenced him are dead," Duroth reminded him.

"I know. You'll be lucky if you get three words out of him though," the OwRyuumon explained.

"Oh?"

The jailor nodded and stopped in front of a dark cell. "Here he is," he said, taking the key from around his neck and placing it in Duroth's claws. "Are you sure about this?"

Duroth nodded. "If you don't mind, could I talk to him in private?"

The OwRyuumon gave a nod of agreement, albeit reluctantly. "If he tries anything or breaks free of his chains, shout and I'll be here in an instant. I won't be very far away."

"I don't think you have to worry," the Dorbickmon replied. As the jailor flew down the hallway, Duroth approached the cell and looked in. Beyond the bars was darkness.

"Erebus Artorius?" Duroth asked. "Are you awake in there?"

A short growl was the councillor's response.

"I'm coming in. Is that alright?" he said, inserting the key he was given inside. Duroth unlocked the door, slid the bars open, and stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him.

Erebus' rather menacing form stood up upon the Dorbickmon's entering. He folded his arms, causing his shackles to rattle metallically. He gazed down at Duroth's bandages before looking back up to stare him in the face. "...Who are you?"

"You may or may not know me," Duroth calmly replied, stifling the pain he was feeling. "I'm Councillor Duroth R'Daruuk. It's a pleasure to meet you." He outstretched his free left hand.

The Cyberdramon eyed him for a second before taking it, shaking it firmly. "I heard your rally outside earlier..."

Duroth smirked to himself. "Is that so...?"

Erebus retracted his hand. "What do you want with me?"

"I was reading through the prisoner records and you... caught my interest," he answered, staring at Erebus.

"You aren't the first..." the black-armoured prisoner said informally.

Duroth raised an eyebrow in intrigue, but kept to himself for the time being. "I have some questions if that's okay with you."

Erebus remained silent and sat back down.

The wounded red dragon took this to mean he could continue. "So why _are_ you in here, exactly?" Duroth asked.

"...I thought you read my record," the Cyberdramon responded, a bit standoffishly.

"I want to hear your side of the story," he said with a reassuring smile. "I'm sure you know as well as I do that most things recorded in our empire's golden age are sketchy at best."

Erebus grimaced, but nodded. He remembered some of the things that the Dramon Empire did all too well. "I..." he began, "disobeyed several orders. Each time they asked me to do terrible, unjust things. I wouldn't let myself commit such acts. It is against... my nature."

"Your nature?" Duroth asked, a bit surprised. "But..." He grinned and shook his head dismissively. "I find it curious that somebody of your, shall we say, 'profession' has such a kind but strong heart."

"Kind?" Erebus asked with an almost scoff. "Are you aware of who I am?"

The Dorbickmon nodded, smiling quietly. "...You are Corporal Erebus Artorius. A noble warrior of justice. And that is the only thing that matters," he calmly explained, ignoring his pain.

The black armoured dragon responded with a silent, level stare. "...What do you want of me, Councillor?" he asked again, getting right to the point.

Duroth wrapped his claws around one of the bars to help support himself, beginning to feel weaker. "Do... you like your name, Erebus?" he questioned him, dodging the question for the time being.

Erebus didn't respond.

"'Darkness'," the red dragon said. "It doesn't suit you... do you agree?"

Closing his eyes behind his helmet, he replied. "It is the name I was given."

"The name you were given," Duroth echoed. "But it is _your_ name, is it not? Don't you have a right to decide it?"

"Did you decide your name?" Erebus retorted.

The Dorbickmon smiled. "No... but I like my name."

"My name..." Erebus spoke, bowing his head in the darkness. "It... reminds me who I am. What I truly am..."

The Cyberdramon stared at his chained feet. "It reminds me of my purpose... and what I can never have..."

"Your purpose according to whom?" Duroth countered. "Your superiors? Those who tell you to fight?"

He hobbled forward and placed a hand on Erebus' shoulder. "Did you not disobey orders through your own volition? You know as well as I do, if not better, the importance of free will. Isn't your purpose what _you_ make it, Erebus?"

Erebus frowned. "I... My purpose _is_ of my own free will. I choose when to fight and when not to fight," he replied firmly.

Duroth grinned. "Good. That is how it _should_ be... All too often soldiers' minds are clouded by the idea of 'orders'. Because they are soldiers, they feel they have to do as they're told by their superiors. Whether it's loyalty, fervour or the idea that they'll climb the ranks if they're good... The reason is irrelevant. What matters is that those above them will take advantage of them, telling them to do their bidding and because of this one-sided, unquestioning allegiance, they _will_ do it," he explained, staring at Erebus.

"...However, you are different," he continued. "You have the righteousness to know when something is wrong and you have the courage to refuse to comply with injustice. ...I would like you to fight for me. I need someone like you to fight on behalf of your beliefs... and someone to tell me when something isn't right."

"Why should I fight for you?" Erebus asked. "Politician... soldier... I have seen the worst of both."

"Because you would be fighting _with_ me, not for me. Tell me, do you agree with the things I said in my speech?" Duroth asked.

Erebus thought about the things that the Councillor was saying. After a few moments, he replied.

"...Yes."

"And do you believe I was telling the truth?"

Erebus looked him in the eyes studiously. "...Yes."

Duroth smiled fondly. "Then you and I are alike. We both fight for justice and peace... and we both do it in our own way. ...Am I wrong?"

"...You're correct."

After a few moments, the Councillor's smile faded and a sigh escaped his dry lips. "I know the way you are, Erebus... Today I killed somebody, even though I promote life. I understand if you think I'm a hypocrite... If you don't respect me, then I won't ask you to."

Erebus shook his head. "I have killed many... yet I long for peace as well. We have to fight to achieve our desires... but we must only fight when justice is on our side."

The Dorbickmon stared at him for a few long seconds. "...And it is. I promise that. So... will you fight with me, Erebus?" he asked, holding out his unburdened arm.

Erebus looked down at his chained limbs. "You'll free me?"

"I will free you even if you won't," Duroth reassured him.

The Cyberdramon exhaled through his nostrils and took Duroth's hand firmly with his shackled claws. "I will fight..." He shook his claw and released it.

"You have my eternal gratitude," Duroth replied, wincing in pain as he turned around.

"We're lucky such a cunning manipulator is on our side instead of the evil one," Erebus said as the wounded dramon turned.

The Dorbickmon smirked slightly, looking over his shoulder. "...I merely told you what you already knew, Erebus." He trudged into the hall. "Jailor? Please free Erebus from his bonds and clear his record."

The OwRyuumon jailor flew over and looked at Duroth in surprise, though whether it was at his request or the fact that the dragon spoke with Erebus for such a long time, Duroth couldn't tell. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Please do it," Duroth said with a nod. "Sorry for any inconvenience."

The jailor nodded and flew into Erebus' cell with a separate set of keys. Despite the dark and his slight worry that Erebus might attack him, the OwRyuumon uncuffed the chains from Erebus ankles and then went on to remove them from his wrists. Erebus gave him a slight nod and passed him, walking into the dark, torch-lit hallway.

"Duroth," he called out to the Dorbickmon, who was staggering down the corridor towards the exit while exerting pained grunts.

Duroth looked over his shoulder. "Yes, Erebus?"

Erebus frowned. "I appreciate this... Also, there's something you should know of."

Duroth turned around curiously. "Please, continue..."

"This morning during your rally..." Erebus begun. "Somebody came to visit my cell. A 'High Lieutenant Ishton'. He was a Slayerdramon..."

Wondering what he was getting at, Duroth frowned and allowed him to continue.

"He asked me to fight for him... He said that he and his comrades would start another war against the rebels and wipe them out for good this time. He wanted revenge," the Cyberdramon explained. "...Were I not in chains, I would have killed him before he could corrupt the peace."

The crimson dramon stared at Erebus long and hard, his face expressionless. Finally, he spoke, turning around. "I see... Thank you for telling me about this... _disturbing_ piece of news. I will see you're given quarters."

Erebus gave a curt nod and followed Duroth with the OwRyuumon guard at his side. Duroth looked down at his bandaged chest and saw a few specks of blood soaking through the dressing. He grimaced, put a claw to his chest and walked at a brisker pace.

"_High Lieutenant Ishton..._" Duroth thought to himself, narrowing his eyes. "_If this is true, I cannot let you succeed._"

-

Duroth gripped his blood bag tightly as he pushed a wide door open with a nudge of his shoulder, revealing his dark hospital room. With his other hand on his chest, the bipedal dragon walked in stealthily, hoping nobody noticed he was gone.

"Boo," a calm voice said from the shadows of the large room. The found-out dragon cringed and stiffened up, already knowing who the voice belonged to. "Let me guess; you got lost on the way to the lavatory..."

"Arado..." the wincing red drake replied, scratching his horns as he turned to the side of the room. "I thought you went home."

"You thought right," Arado answered, his blue head and long silver neck appearing out of the shadows. "But you were too dim to realize that I would come back to check on you, knowing you'd sneak off as soon as we left."

"I have a good explanation," Duroth insisted.

The MailBirdramon rolled his yellow eyes. "Of course you do; you always do. Your silver tongue will get you out of anything. That is, anything except for _bleeding to death_," he scolded him. "You Sukamon-brained, stubborn-as-a-Greymon, impossible newt. 'Saviour of the Dramon Empire', indeed..."

The Dorbickmon grimaced. "There was just something I had to take care of..."

"Right, something important enough to risk your life over," he said dismissively. "Duroth, sometimes I wonder if you're _trying_ to die..."

The large metal dragon examined him carefully. He caught notice of the splotch of blood on Duroth's bandages that slowly grew bigger. "Terrific. At least one of your stitches broke too."

"I'm sorry, Arado," Duroth apologized, walking over to his bed and slowly lying down with a pained groan.

Arado sighed irritably. "I'll go get the physician and then I'm going home. I need to sleep."

Duroth nodded and rested his horned head and spiked back on the pillow. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"If you don't bleed to death first," he muttered just loud enough for his friend to hear.

The Dorbickmon frowned uncomfortably. "Yes, well... can you also look into the identity and activities of a 'High Lieutenant Ishton'? A Slayerdramon."

Upon reaching the door, Arado turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Why?"

"He may be worth investigating, is all..."

The MailBirdramon nodded. "Just rest. And don't move or I'll get Jormun up here. I don't think he'd pass up the opportunity to give his old friend a great, big, immobilizing hug," he warned him, a faint grin on his face.

Duroth grinned and nodded as Arado walked out. "You have my word."

-

After a cool night, morning finally rolled around in the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. The dawn sun shone down on the capital, creating a warm, but not overbearing heat to greet the waking reptiles. Strom was still asleep in the sandy clearing outside the front of King Aegyptu's palace. He was sprawled across the grains, lying on his chest. He readjusted himself slightly with a light grin on his face.

"Mmph..." he mumbled, almost incoherently in his sleep. "Hot ShineGreymon... Feels great..."

He twitched irritably when a talon poked the end of his snout. Strom groaned and slowly opened his eyes, reluctantly waking up from his dream. "Rr?" he grumbled, looking in front of him to see the small, dark blue form of a Pteramon standing in front of him. Strom's eyes widened slightly and he tried to blink away his tiredness. "S... Sarki...?"

Sarki stared at him with a Sukamon-eating grin, giving Strom a once over. "...Having a good dream I see?"

"I..." Strom trailed off, remaining flat on the ground and blushing deeply. He raised his orange, red-tinted head in looked around. He froze at what he saw.

Around him was a crowd of dinosaur digimon, some looking at him and some going about their day. Standing between himself and the grand, ornate palace was a massive Spinomon. He towered over Strom, standing at twice his size. If he wasn't imposing enough already, he had thick, toned muscles to boot.

"K-King Aegyptu!" Strom stammered, the hue of his snout deepening.

"Stromus Marocannus," he greeted, grinning as well. Aegyptu was the only one who ever called the Spinomon by his official name. "Or do you still hate when I call you that, 'Strom'? Either way, I see you've decided to show up..."

"Y-yeah, well, I, you see..." Strom's babbling halted upon seeing somebody else. His eyes widened greatly and his heart pumped rapidly with fear, anticipation, anger and uncertainty.

"Ranney..."

Beside King Aegyptu's leg stood a nervous, almost meek-looking emerald form of a DinoRexmon. Ranney looked at Strom with a sad frown that he quickly tried to turn into an awkward smile.

"H-Hey, Strom..." Ranney greeted, the fear and guilt poorly hidden in his voice.

Strom stared at the DinoRexmon, his mouth nearly agape. The intense crimson shade immediately drained from his face. Inside his quickly retracting and expanding chest, his heart drummed. It had been over a week since he saw Ranney. It was during that one fateful encounter in the Palaeozoic Sovereignty where they crossed paths. The green dinosaur greeted him with a flying tackle and Strom had responded with rage. Ranney had seen just how deeply he had wounded Strom. From that, he learned, realizing that Strom wasn't as forgiving as he had wished.

Strom slowly stood to his feet. His wide, golden eyes gradually narrowed. Pain flashed through his left hand and Ranney could have sworn that he saw an emerald glint in Strom's narrowed eyes.

"_All this is because of him. All of it,_" Strom's racing mind said to itself. "_It's all because of you, Ranney..._"

The Spinomon walked towards him, slowly. His eyes fixed Ranney in his glare.

After all this time of separation...

"_It's because of you that I feel so much anger and hatred. It's your fault that I lash out at everyone around me now. And you're the reason why I can hardly trust another person,_" he thought, growling deep in his throat as he approached. "_The reason why I wrongfully accused Ragna! And the reason why this scar in my heart will never go away! I'll never be the same because you betrayed me!_"

The Spinomon's fists clenched as he approached the smaller DinoRexmon, who stood there. Waiting.

With a growl of effort, Strom lashed out, drilling his balled up claws straight into the DinoRexmon's snout. Ranney cried out as he fell backwards, landing on his back before moving to lie on his side. As Strom moved towards him, he noticed the various scars on Ranney's back.

Blood trickled out of Ranney's snout and dripped down onto his lips and chin. His eyes watered, but he resigned himself to his punishment. He didn't even struggle when Strom's claws closed around his throat and lifted him off the ground so that not even his giant toe claws touched. Strom clenched his teeth and stared long and hard into Ranney's guilt-stricken face. He didn't care that Ranney wasn't fighting back or even trying to protect himself.

As the DinoRexmon looked at him sadly, Strom glared at him, pulling his fist back and wanting to hit him again. He wanted to blame Ranney for this. He wanted to blame him for everything. Ranney winced, readying himself for the next agonizing blow.

"It's because of you I got these scars, Ranney," Strom snarled, lowering Ranney slightly so that the DinoRexmon could stare at the massive beige scars on Strom's chest from when Daehak dragged his giant claws through his scales to try to get him to talk.

"I... know..." Ranney choked out, tears brimming in his red eyes.

Strom squeezed his neck a bit tighter, ready to punch him. Ranney closed his eyes, expecting further throbbing pain. The Spinomon studied him carefully. He remembered the smile he often found on Ranney's face. Now all he could see was the pain of guilt and sorrow. Strom growled out in frustration and acted.

Ranney fell to the ground, landing in the sand and sending a wave of the granules out from around him. The dinosaur panted heavily, trying to catch his breath, but to his surprise, he felt no additional pain. The fifteen foot dinosaur looked up at Strom with surprise, his red eyes locking with Strom's gold ones.

He saw the Spinomon grimace for a moment before Strom turned his head away. "Strom..." he breathed, slowly getting to his feet.

"I hated you... for what you did," Strom said, refusing to look at Ranney as he talked to him. "Everything I went through, Ranney... The pain I felt... The worst part was knowing that it was you that betrayed me..."

Ranney winced. "I... I know. You have a right to hate me. I get it..." he responded submissively.

Strom grimaced. "I regret beating you so much when we last met. I was angry... so angry at you. I didn't want to see your face after what happened. What you did... I never thought I could forgive you. I wonder sometimes if I still hate you..."

The DinoRexmon bowed his head, his blood dripping onto the sand below with the action.

"But..." Strom turned towards him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "I'd rather not hate you. You're... not the only one who made mistakes. I have too... Ones that I can't take back." The Spinomon closed his eyes and remembered Ragna, the Dynasmon he accused of helping the enemy. "It's better to have friends than it is to have grudges. I've at least learned that much..." He sighed. "I... know I need to change what I became."

Bowing his head, Ranney spoke, his guilt clear. "I'm so sorry, Strom... I was in an impossible situation and- no. I won't make any excuses. I know what I did was unforgivable. I gave up my best friend to the enemy. I just... Can you ever forgive me for what I did? I... I understand if you can't." Tears dotted Ranney's eyes as he looked down at the ground.

"Part of me doesn't want to forgive you," Strom replied, looking down at him. "It's because it's so easy to blame you. It's easier to blame you and the ones close to me than it was to accept the fact that all the pain and suffering I felt was just due to an unfair situation. It's easier to be wronged by somebody than it is to be collateral damage... Blame makes pain easier to deal with... but it doesn't make it right."

Strom extended his hand towards Ranney apprehensively but he stopped mid-way. He remembered what it was Ranney did. Ranney betrayed him to the Dramon Empire to save his brother. Strom remembered the agony of the torture and the anger that drove him to seek out and join the rebels. But most of all, he remembered the pain of betrayal that he felt when he learned it was Ranney who did it. He begun to pull his arm back, but he remembered Braon's advice, Ragna's words and the times he and Ranney shared before they met Ishton.

Strom steeled his will and forced himself to continue, extending his arm fully. Ranney looked up at him with surprise and curiosity.

"I don't know if I can forgive you... but I want to try. It's damn hard for me, but... I want to be able to put the past behind us, Ranney. And I _want_ to be able to trust you again... The future is all that matters now... at least, that's what I've been told," Strom said, finding himself struggling to get the words out of his mouth.

The Spinomon looked away. "If I deserve a second chance... so do you."

The tearful Ranney moved his claws forward, apprehensively at first, but finally took Strom's hand and gripped it firmly. "Thank you... Strom..." he sniffed, humbled. "You should know... it tore me apart choosing between you and my brother. I made Gotungir promise he wouldn't kill you."

Releasing Ranney's claws, Strom thought back and remembered that the UlforceVeedramon in question adamantly refused to let Daehak blast him to smithereens. "_So that's why I'm alive..._" he mused. "Yeah, well... I get why you did it. It doesn't make it any more bearable, but... I get it, Rann. You love your brother. It _was_ an impossible situation and it was the Dramon who I should have blamed for it. I know I should have realized that... but it took Braon to make that clear to me. Still though..."

"I know..." Ranney said, sighing. "I can't take back what I did. However... what I said about you being my best friend... I wasn't lying. You _are_ my best friend, Strom..."

Strom looked at him levelly, not answering. "...So your brother is okay?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, Ramus is good. He's working for Aegyptu as his messenger now," Ranney explained.

The orange reptile grinned very slightly to himself at the irony. "Of course..."

Silence ensued. Aegyptu had since gone into his palace and Sarki had decided to keep his beak out of it. The air between them was tense, but that didn't stop a small smirk from forming on Ranney's face.

He still felt the guilt and was a bit uncomfortable at the moment, but, ever the optimist, Ranney was just happy that there was still hope for their friendship, even after everything. Or at least he _hoped_ there was hope...

Strom, on the other hand, was trying to deal with his conflicted emotions. Saying he wanted to forgive Ranney and actually doing it were two very different things... Trust wasn't something easily formed. Not for Strom and not after everything that happened to him. However... he promised both Braon and himself that he'd try. After doubting Ragna and so many others, he owed that much.

"...And you, Ranney? Nothing that involves too much thinking, I'm guessing," he said, offering a small grin.

"Haw haw," Ranney mock laughed, rolling his eyes, though he was inwardly jubilant that he was able to talk like this with Strom once again. "I'm in the military. I joined after I got to the capital – wanted to kick some Dramon butt too. I guess you didn't see me at either of the battles?"

"I... don't know," Strom replied, remembering thinking he saw Ranney on the battlefield once or twice, though they were at times where he wasn't in the best state of mind.

"That's a shame. I was pretty awesome if I do say so myself," the DinoRexmon smugly said, rubbing his chest with one of his claws. "I may not be good enough to be a fancy _Avenger_ or anything, but I took out a good twenty two Dramon in total in that last battle."

Strom rolled his eyes. "Good for you..." he said sarcastically, though he grinned slightly.

"Come on!" Ranney said, turning around and grabbing Strom's wrist with his claws, pulling him towards the palace. "King Aegyptu wanted to talk to you after I was done apologizing. You know the rules: if you don't get a job, you won't be eating much."

"You just want to steal portions from me," Strom countered, smirking at him.

"Well... whatever you don't finish I'd be happy to take for you," Ranney said with an innocent shrug. The smile he bore disappeared as he turned to Strom. His face was serious. "So... we're buddies again, right?" he asked, his voice a bit nervous.

Strom glanced at him for a moment before continuing towards the palace.

"Sure..."


	6. Part 6: The Slayer Legion

_**Part 6: The Slayer Legion**_

Strom followed Ranney into the great hall of King Aegyptu's palace. A feeling of nostalgia swept over him as he entered the massive structure over four times his size. He remembered that no matter what his size was, in this palace, he always felt tiny. Strom figured that that was part of Aegyptu's reasoning for its size, apart from the fact that it had to accommodate a forty foot Spinomon.

The orange dinosaur looked around as he walked across the thick stone tiles. Flanking him were more pillars coated with glimmering gold digizoid, mined from the nearby mountains. Standing at the end of the hall was King Aegyptu, exerting his indomitable presence even when idly waiting. The titan Spinomon monarch watched as the two dinosaur approached.

"Here's Strom, my lord," Ranney said, stopping in front of him and bowing.

Strom simply eyed Ranney as the DinoRexmon bowed and then looked up at King Aegyptu.

"I suppose you don't _have_ to bow, Mighty Avenger Strom," Aegyptu said wryly, folding his mighty arms across his chest. "Seeing as you're no longer a member of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty."

The smaller Spinomon returned the stare for a few seconds before averting his gaze, wincing. "I..." he began, struggling to utter the words that he once swore he would never say, "...have returned... _my lord_." Strom closed his eyes tightly, kneeled down and bowed his head.

Aegyptu's faint grin was replaced with a look of surprise. "You're serious, Strom?" he asked, genuinely taken off guard. "I assumed you were here as some sort of messenger. I was just about to mention the irony."

"I'm as surprised as you are," Strom muttered in reply. "Sorry you won't get to perform your one-liner, sire."

"Still a little smartass, I see," Aegyptu said with a chuckle. "Good. It reminds me of when you were a Guilmon."

Strom rolled his eyes while Ranney snickered to himself. Aegyptu motioned for them to rise and they complied. "So," the large dinosaur spoke, his voice carrying a natural boom to it. "You're back for good, Strom?"

"Yeah," Strom replied, sighing through his nostrils. "Sure looks like it."

King Aegyptu nodded and closed his eyes. "Commander Braon told me about your feats when he and I last spoke. It was after the last battle, actually. He has told me you've grown..."

Strom narrowed his eyes, glancing off to the side. "I don't know about that; he's always saying stuff..."

"He also told me the reasons you left us," Aegyptu spoke firmly. "You were always very vocal about your stance on our neutrality, but I didn't expect you to be childish enough to run off. ...However, I know that Ranney also had something to do with it." The DinoRexmon in questioned grimaced in guilt.

The two Spinomon looked over at Ranney, observing the scars on his back. "He took full responsibility for his actions," King Aegyptu explained.

"I can tell," Strom responded. He knew that public lashings as punishment wasn't a walk in the park at all. He didn't exactly feel gratified that Ranney had to go through that.

"I think he and I made up though," Ranney said with a happy smile, looking over at Strom.

"Is this true, Strom?" Aegyptu asked, wanting to hear the words from his mouth.

"I..." Strom paused, thinking about it. "Yeah. We're getting there, at least..."

The Spinomon monarch nodded. "Commander Braon also told me that you've improved upon your knack of tactics... with his assistance," he explained, grinning. Strom rolled his eyes in response, finding it very typical of Braon. "How would you like to handle some of our army's tactics? It's a step up from your old position of messenger and advisor and I'd also like to see some of the things you've picked up from the Rebels. ...Well?"

Strom frowned, his scaly brows furrowing in thought. "I wouldn't hate that, I guess..."

The Spinomon smirked victoriously. "Good. Strom Marocannus, you are hereby promoted to Field Officer – First Claw. And Ranney Nychus? You're promoted to Field Officer – Second Claw. You're both assigned to the Desert Vanguard battalion."

"Thank you, sire!" Ranney replied enthusiastically, bowing his head.

"Yeah... Thanks, King Aegyptu," Strom spoke lowly, also bowing his head.

"That will be all, Field Officers," Aegyptu said, waving his claw in a gesture for them to leave. "Go find your barracks."

Strom frowned, turning around and walking down the great hall with Ranney at his side. He couldn't believe that King Aegyptu let him back so willingly after he left the Sovereignty and then refused to join back up again when they were here with the Avengers. He expected at least a day's worth of public humiliation for punishment. He certainly didn't expect to be promoted. Strom figured that the fact that he was now famous among the Sovereignty for becoming an Avenger might have something to do with it, not to mention the fact that they took some losses in the two battles they fought against the Dramon Empire.

"Oh, and Strom?" Aegyptu's voice spoke up, stopping him in his tracks.

"...Yes, my liege?" Strom asked as he tensed up, recognizing that tone of voice as clear as day.

"You're on oasis sanitation duty tonight," the king said with a gleeful smile.

"...And there it is. Home sweet home..."

-

Ishton sat in the grass of a wide field several kilometres south of the Dramon Empire's capital. Scattered about the grassland were hundreds of tents and there were even more Dramon soldiers hanging out either around them or inside them. The Slayerdramon was hunched over a wide map of the digital world, studying it meticulously. A few other digimon sat in a circle around the map, also looking it over. Among them was Tartarus, Drykar the Deckerdramon and Wromthrax the Examon.

"So how many digimon strong do we have at this moment, Ishton?" Drykar, the massive bronze crocodile digimon, asked, peering down at the Slayerdramon.

"At the rate recruits are coming in, a few thousand by a few days. That should be enough for our initial attack. Then we just need to hold out while advancing long enough for me to get my plan moving along. The timing has to be just right," Ishton explained.

"Whichever way the election's vote tomorrow goes, are you sure you can work the results to our favour?" Wromthrax questioned, the red, winged dragon eyeing their leader pensively.

Ishton nodded. "Jormungand is predictable and Duroth is wounded and naive."

"And what happens if Duroth wins, dies from his wounds, and Councillor Arado takes over?" Wromthrax continued.

"That would be a problem..." the Slayerdramon admitted. "From what I hear, that MailBirdramon is more calculating than he lets on."

"I can take care of him, if need be," Tartarus suggested with a grin.

"That would be counter-productive to our cause," Drykar replied, narrowing his eyes. "We're not supposed to be fighting ourselves. It's the murderers on the other side that we should direct our wrath toward."

"Drykar's right," Ishton said.

"Okay, whatever, then," Tartarus responded, shrugging. He gazed at the world map in front of them. "So, what _is_ the plan?"

"Well, given that we're temporarily autonomous from the military, we can't fully rely on the navy to move us around," Drykar pointed out.

"That's true," Ishton agreed. "We can't use them for our initial attack. Maybe further down the line if everything goes according to plan. And we can pretty much cross off the northern wastelands entirely."

"We should strike them where they're weakest," Wromthrax said, pointing to a wide forest on the map. "The Royal Hive."

"I disagree," Ishton said, frowning. "That would be our best interest in the short term, I agree, but we need to look further ahead. If we attacked there, they would envelop us from both the north, where the Rebel's camp is, and from the south, where the Palaeozoic Sovereignty is." The Slayerdramon looked at the three of them firmly. "I've known where we should attack since my plan's conception."

"The Rebel's headquarters?" Drykar asked.

Ishton shook his head. "The Palaeozoic Sovereignty is south-east of our decidedly western empire, correct?" They nodded. Ishton dropped a rock on the map, letting it fall on the southern desert of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty that spanned a lot of the land down there. He then placed his claw north of the desert, leading from the left to the right in various combinations.

"You see, no matter where we attack the rebels in the east, the dinosaurs in the south will always be able to flank us from our right. Moreover, we simply don't have enough forces to be able to split our army into two. When we attack, it needs to be with all of us," Ishton explained.

"This is true," Drykar conceded. "But you don't mean..."

The silver-plated dragon nodded. "Yes. We should attack the Palaeozoic Sovereignty first."

"That's madness!" Drykar protested. "Go through that desert? Our hides may be thick, but we can't stand up to it like the dinosaur digimon can. They have the advantage there. And you, yourself, have complained about how Yggdrasil-forsaken it is."

"I know it's a risk, but in regards to each faction standing on their own, the Palaeozoic Sovereignty is the one we have to fear the most. Not only can they flank _us_ but I believe their king would be rash enough to invade our own empire from the south should we attack one of their allies north or northeast of them. That's something we can't allow," Ishton said. "The Palaeozoic Sovereignty is a powerhouse. They took the least amount of losses in the Civil War, their army is still standing strong and they are nothing if not stubborn."

Wromthrax studied the map, stroking his chin. "So you're saying we should attack them in their own territory, which would force them to fight us head on and prevent them from flanking us during our attack."

Ishton nodded. "And we'd be taking them off guard, which would dramatically hinder their fighting abilities."

"However, they know desert warfare far better than we do," Drykar stated. "The sandstorms that plague the area put us at a disadvantage."

"Yes," Ishton said. "But it puts their allies at a disadvantage as well, should they come to their aid. Their friends wouldn't be much help in such a storm."

"What about our previous loss in the Sovereignty?" the Deckerdramon asked, frowning.

"We have a new commander this time," Tartarus pointed out, gesturing to Ishton.

"We just need to keep their armies at bay until help arrives. We start with the towns on the outskirts before heading straight to their capital. Once we take that, the Sovereignty will crumble and then the other factions will be easy pickings. Any objections?"

Tartarus shook his head. "It's all up to you, Ishton," he said with a grin.

Wromthrax shook his head as well, standing up and stretching his wide Caledfwlch wings. "Sounds good to me."

Ishton looked over to Drykar, watching as the giant crocodile digimon frowned in thought. "I... suppose it could work. In theory..." he spoke with a hint of caution.

"What's your concern?" the Slayerdramon questioned, interested in the more experienced officer's insight.

"For one, this attack's success depends entirely on your plans, which may or may not work. If, for whatever reason, they don't come or are simply late, we _will_ not last out there," the Deckerdramon said.

"It will work," Ishton spoke resolutely. "It has to. For we are The Slayer Legion."

"I sure hope it does," Drykar responded. "Because you're putting that into action _after_ our first attack starts... I do not want our soldiers dying needlessly."

"Nor do I. Have confidence, Drykar." The Slayerdramon gave him a nod and looked at each of the three. "Tartarus, Drykar, Wromthrax. Go over the map and devise a battle plan based on the plan I described. I'm heading back to our capital and taking an UlforceVeedramon with me to serve as a messenger between myself and our army. Start moving south in two days."

Ishton swung around, his cape fluttering in the breeze as he did. He walked away from them in the direction of the Dramon capital. "_Palaeozoic Sovereignty, enjoy your victory while you can. After all your time hiding away from conflict, you too will soon feel the stinging tears of loss._"

-

_The Next Day..._

A light breeze swept through the Dramon capital, casting Arado's minimal engine exhaust behind him as he hovered down a marginally busy street. The sun beat down on his sleek blue and silver metal body and reflected off, showing off his notable sheen.

Arado looked down at Duroth who hobbled beside him under the shade of his long, metal wing. Each dramon that passed by them had at least _some_ reaction to them, Duroth in particular. Be it a smile, a sneer, a turn of the head or a wish of luck, they received acknowledgement.

"For the Sovereigns' sakes," the MailBirdramon scoffed at Duroth. "You say you're humble, but here you are, too proud to use the crutches the physician recommended you use."

"It's all about appearances," Duroth replied with a weak smile. "With the election today, I need to look like I'm strong and capable, not like I should be resting in bed."

"You _should_ be resting in bed," Arado reminded him, "...though I suppose you have a point. However... what happens if there's another attempt on your life?"

The Dorbickmon looked over his shoulder at a Cyberdramon who trailed not far behind Arado and himself. "Then it's a good thing we have him as a bodyguard."

The jet-like dragon rolled his eyes. "Erebus Artorius. The prisoner whose file you were looking at," he mumbled. "You could have gotten a bodyguard with better PR, you know... Or at _least_ somebody with a sense of humour... I swear, I might as well tell my sarcastic musings to a statue, Duroth; I'll get more laughs that way."

Erebus merely walked behind them, looking rather indignant. "So I'm to be your bodyguard...?" he asked again, a hint of incredulity in his otherwise level tone.

"Just for the time being, Erebus," Duroth assured him. "Your skills aren't needed _just_ yet..."

The Cyberdramon's reply was a growly grunt.

Arado turned his gaze from Erebus back to Duroth, who hid the pain in his body with a steely expression. "Well then, Duroth, it's the day of the election. How are your nerves? Are you squirming like Jormungand stuck in a trap?" he asked.

Duroth grinned. "I won't say I'm definitely going to win... but I've done all that I can up to this point and I'm confident. I _want_ to believe our people feel the same way that we do, Arado."

The MailBirdramon nodded. "_We_ may not take Jormungand seriously, but he definitely has a chance to win. We both know that I'm the more cynical between the two of us, so I think the election _could _go against us if the Dramon truly desire things to go on as they are. That said, I do think you're going to win. As long as the Dramon don't vote purely on emotion, you will win."

"_We_ will win, my friend," Duroth replied, smiling. "The world will."

"Indeed..."

Duroth came to a halt, prompting Arado and Erebus to do the same. He turned around and observed the Cyberdramon with a smile. "Erebus, we're just about at my house. You're free to go home for the remainder of the day."

"Fine," the humanoid dragon replied, turning around and flying away without so much as another word or a glance.

Arado watched the black armoured digimon fly off. "That wasn't the 'good luck' I was hoping for," he muttered.

The Dorbickmon grinned. "He wants us to win, but in his own way," he explained. He turned to his blue friend. "So, now that he's gone..."

"...Yes?" the MailBirdramon asked, looking in Duroth's violet irises as he waited.

"What did you find out?"

Arado raised an eyebrow. "You mean about that Ishton fellow?" Upon seeing Duroth's nod, he started recalling what he read in the files and documents he ascertained. "High Lieutenant Ishton Kirzarv. Age twenty nine. He has known and served with Grand Marshal Gotungir for nine years, ever since he was was a Wingdramon. They were together in the First Dramon Air Force until Gotungir was promoted to Grand Marshal. During the time prior to that, he was Gotungir's second in command and even after that, I hear they were close. Apparently when they were in the First DAF, they shared quarters as well. I couldn't find anything about his childhood, I'm afraid. Apart from his family, that is."

"I see..." Duroth responded, walking into the courtyard ahead of them.

"Why did you ask me to do this?" the MailBirdramon asked, following him.

"Erebus told me that Ishton asked if he wanted to fight for him. Erebus claims that Ishton wants to continue the war against the so-called Rebels," the red drake explained.

"Of course it wouldn't be that easy," muttered Arado, speeding up to catch up with Duroth. "And do you believe Erebus? With Grand Marshal Gotungir's recent death, it wouldn't surprise me if this Ishton wanted revenge, given how close they were..."

"You have a point..." Duroth spoke. "As for whether I believe him... I don't know yet."

"He seems like an honest fellow. Brutally honest, even," Arado replied. "Do you think Erebus harbours some sort of grudge against Ishton?"

"I'm not necessarily calling him a liar, but... I want to talk to Ishton myself," the Dorbickmon explained, narrowing his eyes. "I don't want to believe it. It seems unfathomable that somebody would want another war, but... that is the world we live in, isn't it, Arado?"

Arado nodded silently. "...And if he does want to start another war? Do we have him arrested on sight?"

Duroth remained quiet, thinking wordlessly to himself. "...We'll decide that when and if it comes to that..."

"Right..." the dragon answered, a bit of hesitation in his voice. He watched the distracted red drake studiously until something ahead of them caught their eyes.

"So _there_ you two are!" a booming voice laughed. "The bleeding heart R'Daruuk and his toy airplane, Skrikewing."

They saw the massive purple and gold form of a sea serpent slowly fly towards them, landing in the courtyard and looming down at them. The GigaSeadramon smiled triumphantly.

"Ah, Jormun," Arado greeted. "I thought I recognized your heavy breaths and unique, aquatic aroma..."

Jormungand's confident smile quickly disappeared and he glared down at Arado. "You won't be saying that in three hours when I become the Dramon Empire's new monarch! You should have seen all the Dramon flooding to my rallies!"

"They came to see if you would do something foolish and Jormun-y, undoubtedly," Arado quipped.

The GigaSeadramon grunted. "Shut your mouth for one minute, Skrikewing! I'll have you know that at one of my rallies, there were more attenders than my entire navy!"

"Jormun. It's 'attendees', actually," Arado corrected, stone-faced. "And that _is_ a lot... especially considering how plentiful your navy is after its hasty retreat from battle about a week ago."

"IT WAS A TACTICAL WITHDRAWAL! MY DRAMON ARE NOT COWARDS!" Jormungand bellowed, leaning his coiled body down and aggressively pushing his snout against the MailBirdramon's.

Arado couldn't help but smirk lightly at the effects his teasing was having on Jormungand. "Of course..." he responded, remaining calm. "...Now would you please give me some space? Or are you intending to kiss me? I would rather you kept your impulses at bay; we _are_ in public and it's the day of the election, you know."

Jormungand turned crimson in a fluster and immediately recoiled, much to Duroth and Arado's amusement. "N-Never!" he shouted.

Duroth finally took the opportunity to speak. "Was there any particular reason you wanted to talk to us, High Admiral?" he asked.

"Right..." Jormungand replied, calming down. "Just wanted to say 'May the best dragon win'."

"Well, Jormungand, that's very civil of you," Duroth replied, smiling and outstretching his claws.

"Yeah, well, if you can take a lance through the belly and then still kill your attacker, you're not a _complete_ pansy," the GigaSeadramon conceded with a small grin, taking Duroth's hand in the coils of his tail and shaking it roughly. "That said... don't take your loss today too hard. It sounds like I'm going to win."

"That remains to be seen," Arado reminded him.

Duroth grinned, taking his claws back when Jormungand's tail uncoiled. "Good luck to you too. I just hope the Dramon make the right choice..."

"Same with me," Jormugand grunted rivalrously. "See you both at the announcement rally."

"Try not to squish anybody," Arado called out as Jormungand flew off. The MailBirdramon turned to Duroth. "Was he just uncharacteristically decent?"

Duroth nodded. "I think he was..." he replied with some amusement. "...But we still can't let him win."

"I know," Arado answered. "...For the sake of the Dramon Empire and everybody else."

-

"Wow, Strom! That really hit the spot, don't you think?" Ranney asked with a content grin on his face as he walked up an inclined stone road between a row of massive stone and clay buildings. The night loomed over the duo, the stars twinkling in a nearly cloudless sky.

Strom walked beside him at a decidedly more sluggish pace. His neck was bowed, his tail was outstretched and the tips of his claws dug into the ground with each step he took. "Ugh... I haven't eaten like that for longer than I can remember... It was always measly rations. My body isn't used to such a feast..." he groaned, holding his stomach.

"But it tasted good, right?" Ranney questioned him, smiling.

"Y...Yeah," the wincing Spinomon admitted. "Are we almost at the barracks?"

The green dinosaur ahead of him nodded and pointed his toe claw at the wide, single story building at the top of the hill. "Right up there, Strommy."

"Good," he grunted, feeling his stomach churning back and forth. "Need to... lie down..."

"Just make sure you don't have another sex dream when you go to sleep; there's not a lot of privacy, if you get what I'm saying," Ranney said with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Wh-Who said it was a sex dream?" Strom barked, though he was feeling too sick to feel embarrassed or angry. "Wait, don't answer that."

Ranney laughed as the road began to level out in front of the barracks and turn right. "Well, who was she, Strom? She must have been pretty damn hot, right? I thought I heard you say ShineGrey-"

Strom clamped Ranney's mouth shut with both of his claws and gave him a look. "Shut up. She's nobody, okay?" he hissed.

Ranney grinned nervously and nodded, not wanting to press his luck with Strom after they'd made such good progress trying to revitalize their friendship. Strom sighed and let go. The pale-looking dinosaur reached to push the wooden door open.

Strom let out an instinctive snarly grunt of surprise when a claw grabbed the large spike jutting out of his back behind his shoulder. The Spinomon spun around and found himself faced with a grey tyrannosaurus-like digimon that was covered with scars.

"Strom!" the MasterTyrannomon exclaimed happily. "It is you!"

The Spinomon blinked. "...Gapsar?" he asked in shock, recognizing the dinosaur as one of his fellow Avengers. He had always felt a slight kinship with Gapsar, though the two never really talked all that much aside from a few instances. They were both dinosaur digimon among the Rebels of the Harmonious Republic, which wasn't exactly a common feat. Strom knew what it was like to feel out of place and Gapsar had felt doubly so as his higher evolution was a Gaiomon – a dramon.

At the time of the civil war, the thought had crossed his mind that he might have been a traitor, but he had dismissed the thought after seeing how insecure he was at the thought of going to the Palaeozoic Sovereignty due to his higher draconic form that came from his dinosaur heritage. And there was also the unfortunate fact that Ragna was Strom's prime suspect at that time.

"Yeah. It's me, Strom," Gapsar said. "I never thought I would see you back here again." The grey dinosaur then looked at Ranney. "...Isn't that the guy you beat senseless after the battle that was here?"

Strom nodded. "It's kind of a long story... Anyways, Gapsar, Ranney. Ranney, Gapsar. He's one of the Avengers.

"Ah..." Ranney said with a roll of the eyes, still bitter about not being allowed to join. "Great. I'll just get out of your way then. I'm sure you guys have a lot of... avenging... and stuff... to talk about."

With that, Ranney pushed the barracks door open and walked inside. Strom turned back to Gapsar. "So, you decided to come back here to live, eh? I have no idea why... but then again, here I am too. These numbskulls haven't been giving you any trouble, have they?"

The MasterTyrannomon grinned. "About my Gaiomon form?" Gapsar asked. "Not really. It's nothing I can't handle. Most of them are fine with it after seeing me fight those two times."

Strom nodded. "Well, if they ever do cause ya problems, tell me and we'll show them what two Avengers can do," he said with a slight grin.

Gapsar nodded. "Thanks, Strom. Have you talked to King Aegyptu yet?"

"Yeah. Got a promotion to Field Officer – First Claw of the Desert Vanguard battalion."

"Same," the MasterTyrannomon said. "Except I'm in the Desert Support battalion. The perks of being an Avenger, it seems..."

The Spinomon let out a slight groan and he was forced to lean forward against the barracks' outer wall. "Rrrrgh... Did you eat as much as I did?" he asked, wincing at the terrible feeling in his system.

The MasterTyrannomon shook his head slowly. "When you eat as little as we did, you're supposed to gradually get used to eating larger amounts of food," he explained.

Strom grimaced and hobbled towards the barracks door. "Yeah, rubbing it in is a _huge_ help. Thanks Gapsar..." he grumbled, pushing the door open.

Gapsar grinned. "I do what I can," he said to him before continuing on his way down the dirt road.

Strom staggered through the wooden door, wanting nothing more than to collapse on a pillow. However, that task wouldn't be as easy as he thought. As soon as he entered, he felt himself in a rough, painful headlock.

"Look who finally decided he wasn't too good for us after all!" a voice said, holding Strom tight.

"Hey!" Strom choked out. "What the hell?" The dinosaur looked up and saw a Spinomon a head taller than him, hunched over him and gripping him in a headlock.

"Welcome back, 'Stromus'," the Spinomon said mockingly. "Aegyptu's pet lizard."

Strom growled and kicked off the doorframe, knocking them both to the ground. Other assorted dinosaur and Palaeozoic digimon scattered out of their way to avoid being impaled on the jagged backs of the two Spinomon. The attacking Spinosaurus digimon let out a pained grunt upon hitting the ground and loosened his grip around Strom's neck.

"Damn it, Barik!" Strom snapped, wiggling free of the taller Spinomon. "What the hell's your problem?"

"Why so touchy?" growled the Spinomon known as Barik, glaring at him. "Angry you didn't get to sleep in the palace bedroom with King Aegyptu?"

"Piss off," Strom retorted. "You _still_ hate me? It's not like Aegyptu gives me special treatment. Why the hell would I have to sanitize the oases if he did?"

"Boohoo. I usually have to do that three times a week. You run off from the Sovereignty thinking you're better than everyone. Now everybody thinks you're some sort of hero because you fought with the Rebels. I bet tomorrow's dinner you were just dead weight on that "Revengers" team or whatever."

"Barik!" snapped Ranney, marching over from his shared room. "Strom's been promoted to Field Officer – First Claw. Your rank is Field Trooper – First Claw. He outranks you, so you better show my buddy some respect, got it?"

After a low growl, Barik stood up. "...Yes, sir," he spat, giving Strom a sneer before walking over to his friends.

Strom, still dizzy from the indigestion, stumbled to his feet. Ranney gestured with his head over to the room he came from. "Over here, Strom. Field Officers share this room," he explained, walking in.

"Err... right..." he grumbled, casting a glare at Barik. Without another glance, Strom followed Ranney inside the room. On the interior, there were six wide mattresses scattered around the perimeter of the broad room with the optional blanket beside each bed. Two of the beds were already occupied by snoring dinosaur digimon. Ranney stood on top of his own mattress and pointed with his toe claw to the one adjacent to his. "There's your bed, Strom."

"Yeah..." Strom grumbled trudging over and sitting down on it to test its softness. "Great. The desert is more comfortable than this."

"You just need to break it in," Ranney reassured him with a grin as he lay down on his own bed. The DinoRexmon snuggled in to his mattress and blanket. Upon settling in, he glanced down at Strom. "So, Field Officer Marocannus – First Claw, what's the deal between you and Mister Sunshine out there?"

"Barik?" Strom asked, facing Ranney as he lay down on his stomach. He let out a growly breath and rested his head on his crossed forearms. "He was always like that around me. He's just a bully and we've been in our share of fights with each other."

"I see..." Ranney answered, thinking to himself. "Well, you don't have to worry about that now, right? If he gives you trouble, that's insubordination."

"It won't matter," Strom explained, closing his eyes as he nestled into his bed. "Won't matter if I'm his superior or an Avenger. He's the kind of guy who thinks that anybody smaller than him is acceptable prey and he's the kind of guy who really plays the dinosaur stereotype straight. A big, mean-spirited, muscle-bound dumbass. We sure are blessed to have him on our team, Rann. Life's gonna be a terrific time from now on," he said, his voice beginning to drip with sarcasm.

"It'll be fine," the DinoRexmon replied, closing his eyes.

The orange spinosaurus grunted and continued trying to get comfortable. "I just need to sleep... I'm exhausted... and sick," he grumbled. "I should've let you eat my rations after all..."

He expected Ranney to reply or annoy him in some way, but when he opened his gold eyes, he saw that Ranney had already fallen asleep with a content grin. Strom couldn't help but smirk a little, but it soon disappeared upon thinking about his DinoRexmon friend.

"_This feels right... acting like this with him again,_" he thought to himself, eyeing the snoozing emerald dinosaur. "_But he already betrayed me before... can I really trust him not to do it again? Does he _really_ want to be my friend or is this just an act? He fooled me before, so he could just be leading me along like before he gave me up to the Dramon Empire._"

Strom shut his eyes and grit his teeth. "_But he explained what happened to Aegyptu and took the public lashings that he knew he would get. He had to have felt bad about it... right?_" The Spinomon thought about all the times they shared on their travels and the feelings he felt of finally knowing friendship. "_Those times we spent together... They were real. The laughs we shared, the feelings... they weren't a lie. I know that the friendship we had was real, but... everything has a limit. I found out that he would choose his brother's life over our friendship, and I can't exactly fault him for it, but... Damn it, Strom. You're being too hard on him, you big oaf. He_ did _just help you out with Barik. Give him a chance. ...Oh for the Sovereigns' sakes, I'm turning into Braon. Not good,_" he reflected.

On that note, Strom decided to put his mind to rest for the time being. Too much thinking mixed with his upset stomach wasn't making him feel any better at all. His eyes relaxed and his mind began to go blank. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

Blissfully unaware of what was to come.

-

_Two Days Later..._

It was the morning and the sun crawled into the blue sky, scorching the sands on the Palaeozoic Sovereignty with its sweltering rays of light. The small goldenrod form of a young tyrannosaur-like dinosaur stepped out of a hut much larger than he was. Around him were several other huts of equal size, most of them made of stone and clay, as was the usual style. The small village of about twenty buildings was quiet as it was still early in the morning. Despite it being separate from the capital, the villages within Palaeozoic Sovereignty, even the ones on the outskirts, still operated under the same system as the capital.

The young, newly digivolved Agumon looked over his shoulder towards the hut that he just left. "Daddy?" he asked his Tyrannomon father inside the hut. "I'm gonna get some water from the oasis nearby, okay?"

"Fine, Lex," a voice inside the hut said to him warmly. "But I want you to go straight there and come straight back, okay? And be careful, understand?"

"Mhm!" the Agumon named Lex responded, taking to an enthusiastic run through the village.

The Tyrannomon smiled as he watched his son run off towards the oasis. "_Maybe now that the war is over, your mom will come back to our village to live with us,_" he mused.

Lex ran across the sand, nearing the edge of the village before stopping. The Agumon blinked and looked down at the ground in curiosity. "Why does the ground feel funny?" he asked himself, feeling vibrations in the earth that caused granules of sand to displace themselves.

It was then that he heard several sounds of whistling behind him. Lex turned around curiously, wondering what was making the noises. He saw nothing but a cloud of sand in the distance that he passed off as nothing but a common dust devil. Despite seeing nothing, the whistling's pitch grew higher and higher as if something where coming nearer.

Several Palaeozoic digimon emerged from their homes and looked around, some looking up at the sky. The child watched in confusion as the whistling became even louder and higher, until it sounded like it couldn't go any further.

Then one of the houses exploded in a violent blast of fire and sand.

Lex let out a cry of fear as explosions ripped through the village blowing up home and digimon alike. The cacophonous din of detonations and black smoke and uplifted sand and glass filled the air. Roars and screams echoed as the explosions continued devastating the village. Rock fell in on itself as missiles descended from the air and destroyed the buildings and their inhabitants from the inside.

"D-Daddy!" the Agumon screamed in terror and confusion as the attack continued. Waves of heat washed over him and he couldn't help but shut his eyes and throw himself to the ground. Cascades of sand brought about by the incredible firepower landed on the trembling dinosaur, covering him with grains of sand.

The artillery strike pressed on, turning sand to glass and digimon to scattered data. He couldn't bring himself to watch as his home was decimated by explosions, smoke and fire. The missile salvo descended from the skies like unholy comets wreaking destruction across the land.

Lex snivelled and sobbed from his place on the ground with his hands covering his head with fear. He slowly opened his eyes when the thunderous explosions stopped. Despite his shaking legs, he stood to his feet. Sand fell off his scales as he looked across what was once his home. All that remained were piles of charred rubble and countless smoking impact craters. "D-Dad...?" he whimpered in shock, looking around desperately for signs of life.

Much to his horror, his house was completely destroyed as well. It had taken a direct hit and the missile that hit it exploded from the inside. He let out a pathetic, shaking breath and collapsed to his knees. Tears flooded his eyes and poured down his snout like rivers. Instead of a village, all he saw was an army of Dramon advancing towards him.

Flying overhead was Tartarus. He grinned and whistled, impressed by destruction he saw beneath him. The large Paildramon looked over his shoulder and saw AeroVeedramon, Veedramon, ExVeemon, Imperialdramon, Seadramon, and all sorts of other Dramon digimon flying or marching into what was left of the annihilated village.

"Damn!" he guffawed. "Not bad, Drykar! Not bad at all!" he shouted to the Deckerdramon in the distance. "But next time leave some digimon for us to kill, okay?"

The bronze Deckerdramon remained silent, speeding across the ground on the tank treads on the soles of his feet. His red eyes watched grimly as the smoke rose from what was left of the village. He reluctantly traipsed towards the destruction that he and the other Deckerdramon among them caused.

"It's completely gone," he breathed...

Tartarus grinned at Wromthrax as the Examon flew up to him, his black Ambrosius lance resting on his shoulder. "Slayer Legion, move out! No doddling!" Wromthrax yelled out to the others, pointing his lance in front of him. "Keep moving onward! For the glory of the Dramon Empire! For vengeance!"

Cheers erupted from the running and flying dramon as they passed through the village.

"'For vengeace'..." Drykar murmured in a dour echo as he slowly approached, dipping down into an impact crater before rising up during his traverse through the village.

Wromthrax wiped sweat from his forehead and glanced at Tartarus. "Damn it's hot... Straight to the capital from here, right?"

"That was the plan," Tartarus responded. "I just hope the dinosaurs put up a better fight than they did here."

"These _were_ just civilians..." Wromthrax said to the proto super soldier, looking around at the carnage.

Drykar rode over the sand beneath them, slowly. He gazed around at the burning remnants with grim crimson eyes. The Deckerdramon closed his eyes and sighed, bowing his head. He remained that way until he heard a sound from nearby.

The crocodile looked ahead of him at the edge of the village. What he saw was an Agumon child on his knees, bawling uncontrollably and crying out for his father. Drykar's eyes widened in shock and horror upon spotting Lex.

"_A... child..._"

Seeing what his attack had done up close affected Drykar deeply. At the time, he didn't think about the possibility that the village was filled with anything but those who deserved his revenge. He slowly approached the crying Agumon, who was much too distraught by the attack and the loss of his father to be scared by the giant metal dragon approaching him.

"Daddy!" the Agumon cried out, tears streaming down his face and dripping off the end of his snout. "Where are you?"

Drykar looked down at Lex with wincing, moistening eyes. "Don't be frightened, little one..." he whispered, guilt wracking his deep voice. He spoke to the Agumon as if he was his own child. "I'm... not going to hurt you..."

The child barely heard him over the sound of his own crying. The Deckerdramon looked around at the village, wondering what to do with the Agumon. He grimaced upon deciding for certain that Lex was the sole survivor of the village. "_This is my fault..._ Drykar thought to himself, closing his eyes in shame.

Tartarus turned around from his discussion with Wromthrax and saw the Agumon in front of Drykar. "Hey, Drykar! I see you found yourself a dino-brat," the Paildramon said with a dark smirk. "Want me to put him out've his misery?"

Drykar growled angrily and opened up his Deckerdra Launcher on his back, his missile ports threatening to fire at Tartarus in a moment's notice. "Don't you dare!" he roared, his back still smoking with missile exhaust from the previous barrage.

"What the hell?" Tartarus growled, glaring at him maliciously but backing off. "Whatever. Just get your huge *ss moving; you're slow enough as it is."

Drykar grimaced and lowered his weapons, locking them back into place on his back. He looked down at the snivelling dinosaur digimon. "Please get on my back," he told him in a fatherly voice. He lowered the tip of his snout down to the ground so that the Agumon could climb on. "It's dangerous here. I'm going to bring you somewhere safe..."

"B-but my dad..." he cried, finally willing himself to look up at the Deckerdramon.

"I'm sorry..." he said in a near mumble, returning a gaze that showed his regret. "Please, get on. Now..."

Lex rubbed his wet eyes with his arm and did so. It was all he could do. Drykar allowed him to climb up his snout and onto his back before slowly moving trying to catch up with the rest of the army of a couple thousand strong.

Tartarus flew beside Wromthrax and looked behind him, glaring at the Deckerdramon. "Where does that guy get off?" he spat. "You don't start a war and then stop to get all touchy feely with the guys we're trying to attack!"

"Give him a break," Wromthrax panted, wincing at the scorching sun heating up his Caledfwlch wings. "It's too damn hot to complain about anything besides the heat... Ishton was right. This place is Yggdrasil-forsaken at this time of the day."

"Yeah, right," Tartarus grunted, feeling the heat, but oddly not as affected by it as his comrades. "Ishton'll be here by the end of the day, right?"

"If he's fast... and if things go to plan..." Wromthrax said, looking around at the intimidating legion of Dramon rebels flying and marching in tactical formation. "I wonder who won the election two days ago..."

"If things went to plan, it doesn't really matter, does it?" the proto super soldier replied.

Tartarus grinned and led the army in the direction of the far off capital. "One thing's for sure, there's going to be a war... and as long as there is, I'm a _very_ happy Dramon..."


	7. Part 7: A Reason to Fight

_**Part 7: A Reason to Fight**_

Ishton paced back and forth across the marble tiled hallway, too immersed in his thoughts to notice the grand, draconic interior architecture of the auxiliary council chambers that now acted as the temporary office of the newfound ruler of the Dramon Empire. His cape fluttered and his plated armour rattled with each light step. The two Examon guards, standing on each side of the door in front of him, regarded him with some irritation.

"_Sixty one percent to thirty nine percent,_" he thought to himself, remembering the percentage of votes between the two candidates. "_Well, I suppose this was to be expected, given his support. No matter. He may be leader, but he's still as dim as he always was. I'll have him in the palm of my hand after this meeting._"

The Slayerdramon finally stopped pacing and looked behind him, down the long, great hall leading to the exit of the chambers. "_Torrington tells me that the Slayer Legion is moving along quickly. He said Wromthrax told him the Palaeozoic Sovereignty still hasn't mobilized against them. Foolish dinosaurs; that's what happens when your empire is so centralised around your capital in such a vast region. There's slow communication,_" he thought with a light grin. He covered his brief emotion and turned back to the guards with a level stare. "How long must I wait? Did I mention it was important?"

"Until our new Emperor is ready for you," the Examon on the left explained, staring firmly at him. "He has a lot of things to do, having only become our leader a few days ago."

"Very well," Ishton said with a roll of his eyes.

The plate-clad Slayerdramon was about to turn back around but the sound of a door creaking open echoed through the hallway, catching his attention.

"You may enter now, High Lieutenant Kirzarv," the guard on the right spoke after receiving a nod from a digimon inside.

Ishton nodded and stepped forwards towards the massive dual doors, one of which was open a crack. He stopped in between the two guards, who turned with him in order to escort him in. The Slayerdramon closed his eyes. "_Don't overact,_" he told himself. He then opened his gold eyes, showing himself with an anxious expression.

The dragon opened the doors and walked into the room with a brisk, worried stride. "M-My lord!" he uttered, rushing across the marble floor of the wide room. The space was tall enough to fit a MetalSeadramon, as the room was previously a council chamber and, as such, had to be able to house the biggest of dragon digimon.

When Ishton hurried forward, the two Examon guards instinctively raised their lances as precautions, but relaxed when Ishton fell to a knee, his head bowed. Several metres in front of him was a large wooden desk littered with papers, scrolls, baubles and an ornamental crown made of gold digizoid, fashioned with various gems and lined with other colourful digizoids.

"Rise," a growly voice spoke from the other side of the desk.

Ishton raised his head tentatively, fear still present in his deliberately widened eyes. "High King...?" he asked questioningly.

Standing over the other side of the desk was a Dorbickmon, grinning slightly as he observed Ishton. With a warm but victorious smirk, he stood with his back to an open window, allowing the light of the sun to shine on his back and spikes from behind. On each of the two discs on his pectoral muscles was the emblem of the Dramon Empire, officialising his status.

"_High King Duroth. Duroth R'Daruuk. The new emperor of the Dramon Empire..._" he thought as he observed the triumphant red dragon. "_You managed to defeat Jormungand in the election, just barely. Even after Jormungand demanded two recounts performed by the other councillors, you were shown to be the winner._"

"Please, that title is subject to change, soldier," Duroth explained, observing the Slayerdramon. "I'm not comfortable with the distance it puts between myself and the everyday Dramon. Just call me - hrm - 'High Councilor', if I have to have a title. It was digimon like you who allowed me to be standing here today, after all."

"Right, m-my apologies," Ishton said, standing to his feet before the victorious Dorbickmon. For good measure he bowed his head again. "High Councilor."

Ishton then turned to the MailBirdramon standing off to the side of the desk, who was eyeing him carefully. "Lord Protector Arado," he greeted quickly, again bowing his head for Duroth's second-in-command. "Congratulations to the both of you."

Arado smiled. "Why thank you. I just hope I do as good a job as my predecessor," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he recalled the Imperialdramon known as Imego, who held the position until he committed triple regicide and took control of the Dramon Empire for himself. "They are indeed tough boots to fill... especially given the shape of my talons and Imego's rather feminine shoe size," he joked.

The Slayerdramon let out a slight, nervous chuckle but turned back to Duroth with the utmost seriousness.

Duroth studied him. "High Lieutenant Ishton Kirzarv. Did I get that right?" he asked. Ishton responded with a nod before he continued. "What was this urgent meeting about?"

"Yes, you seem flustered," Arado noted calmly.

"I am, my lord," Ishton responded, keeping focus on Duroth. He finally glanced into Arado's yellow eyes. Ishton knew about the MailBirdramon's cunning and intelligence. He felt it was far too risky to keep him in the room. "I mean no disrespect, Lord Protector, but may I please speak to High Councillor Duroth in private?"

Arado's voice remained stoic and he eyed Duroth cooly. "Anything you have to say to Duroth, you can say it in front of me. If it really is urgent, I feel that I, as Lord Protector, have a right to know what it is," he explained.

Ishton stifled a wince but nodded, not wanting to push his luck or else he may come off as suspicious. "Of course, Lord Protector. My apologies," he replied in a humbled voice.

Despite this, Duroth gave Arado a look, telling him that it would be alright. "It's okay, Ishton," he said. "Please, Arado. If you don't mind excusing us..."

Arado looked at Duroth in surprise, wondering why he didn't want him present for their talk. Nevertheless, he nodded slightly. "Very well, Duroth," he said. "If you need me, I'll be right outside..."

Ishton inwardly grinned at his luck and stepped aside, making room for the large, draconic jet digimon to pass him. The MailBirdramon looked over his wing as the two Examon guards opened the doors for him to walk through. Arado then disappeared from sight as the doors closed as soon as his clawed tail was safely past the door.

"Please, continue," Duroth urged the seemingly nervewracked Slayerdramon.

"High Councillor. Sire. It's the worst possible scenario," Ishton explained gravely, grimacing before willing himself to look straight in Duroth's eyes with steely determination. "It's the Palaeozoic Sovereignty! They've attacked us, Duroth!" he said with the utmost disdain and passion.

"_What?_" Duroth demanded incredulously.

"In the south," Ishton explained, his jagged teeth beared. "I don't know what happened! My unit was assigned to the Palaeozoic border in the south, in case there was a counterattack. We didn't think there would ever be a counterattack there so things were pretty easygoing, but then..." He shut his eyes. "I came back here as quickly as I could to tell you. I just hope my comrades aren't hurt."

"The Palaeozoic Sovereignty attacked?" the Dorbickmon demanded, clenching his fist. "Without a declaration of war? Right after we signed a peace treaty?"

"I can't imagine what they're thinking. I just don't understand why," Ishton said with a maudlin sigh. "Maybe it was so that we would let our guards down so they could ambush us. I'm deeply ashamed to say that it worked..."

"This can't be," the High Councilor hissed, bowing his head. He glanced up at Ishton. "I must open dialogues with King Aegyptu at once and find out what's going on."

"Excuse me if I'm speaking out of turn, sire, but is that a good idea? Knowing the dinosaurs, and this is coming from somebody who has been in the Palaeozoic Sovereignty several times, they'd probably kill any messenger they send. And King Aegyptu is as stubborn and proud as they come. He may deny the allegations outright. Or even more disturbing, it may be a separate faction within the Palaeozoic Sovereignty who attacked us. Either way, I saw the way they fought. They want to finish us off for good and I heard one of them roar something about attacking any Dramon Empire city they came across. They want to raze our whole kingdom to the ground!" Ishton explained fierily.

"This is... disturbing news indeed," Duroth said, turning his back to Ishton and looking out the giant window behind him. "You do have a point... if what you're saying is true."

"You don't believe me, my lord?" Ishton asked, sounding hurt, though on the inside, he felt a nervous tightness.

Duroth looked over his spike-laden shoulder with a slight, reassuring grin. "It's not necessarily that, High Lieutenant. It's just that what you're saying conflicts with something else I've heard."

"I swear on my honour as a Dramon that I'm telling the truth!" Ishton insisted. "May I ask what you've heard?"

The Dorbickmon turned around fully and gazed at Ishton. "A prisoner by the name of Erebus Artorius told me that you came to him saying that you wanted his help attacking the rebels. I was wondering about the legitimacy of this statement."

For the briefest of moments, Ishton's eyes hardened and it took all of his willpower to keep himself from swearing. Instead he raised an eyebrow and widened his eyes. "I what? I would never. I've been on border patrol ever since a few days after the final battle of the Civil War! That bloody Cyberdramon and his grudge."

"Grudge?" Duroth asked. "So you two know each other."

"We do... Sometime before Erebus' incarceration our units were combined under Gotungir's command. I received a rather questionable order and had to relay it to the troops," he explained, his scales crawling at the fact that he was forced to speak ill of his deceased friend and master. "Erebus refused to comply with it so I had to make an example of him; if I didn't beat him, the other soldiers would think it would be okay to disobey orders whenever they pleased. In the army, following orders is a necessity."

"I see..." the red dragon replied, closing his eyes in thought. "So because of this, he has a grudge against you?"

Ishton nodded, flicking his armoured tail irritably. "Besides, even if that blatant lie _were_ true, the Palaeozoic Sovereignty are not the rebels. True, we attacked them and lost, but if anybody wanted to make such an ideological statement in attacking another nation, I would think the best way would be to attack the rebels themselves, or better yet, the Avengers," he said, before adding, "hypothetically speaking, of course."

"You do have a point, Ishton," Duroth said with a grimace. "We're under attack by the Palaeozoic Sovereignty... I need to consult with the Council about this."

"I feel it's my duty to tell you about how little time there is, High Councillor," Ishton implored. "They were already headed straight for Drakennear in the south when my comrades counterattacked and started to push them back into the desert. I don't know how long they'll last... especially with the Palaeozoic reinforcements that are bound to come."

The Dorbickmon snarled lowly. "What would you suggest I do then?"

Ishton smirked very faintly. "All we can do is retaliate," he explained grimly. "Given the strength of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, we would need to send most of our air forces and ground forces. Perhaps even the navy too."

Duroth narrowed his eyes at him. "After all I did for peace, now I have to send our people back into the flames of war?" he growled.

"I'm sorry this happened," the Slayerdramon apologized, bowing his head. "But if we don't defend ourselves, they will crush us mercilessly. Not just our soldiers, but our civilians and cities as well... I have heard that the only just reason to fight is fighting in the defence of another. Is it wrong if we want to defend our friends and loved ones from these invaders?"

"Damn it," Duroth spoke, closing his eyes. "What good can war possibly bring? Why does everybody make it so hard for us to live in peace? This has to change..."

Ishton nodded solemnly. "I agree; we have already lost so many..."

After several moments, Duroth opened his crimson eyelids and locked his violet irises with Ishton. "So, High Lieutenant, you're positive we need whole armies for this?"

"Unfortunately, yes. As much as we can spare without weakening the defence of our empire," Ishton explained, his heart pumping excitedly.

Duroth sighed deeply and walked around his desk, striding up to Ishton. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Ishton," he said with a mournful smile. "I will talk to the higher echelon of the military... And we will send an army as soon as we can."

The Dorbickmon grimaced and outstretched a hand to the Slayerdramon. "For the defence of a brighter tomorrow... Maybe one day we can all live a happy life... Wouldn't that be nice, High Lieutenant?"

Ishton gripped his hand firmly, looking at Duroth with an equally bitter smile. "I can't think of anything better, High Councillor..."

-

A breeze swept across the desert of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty like waves on an ocean. Uplifted granules blew across the waiting ranks of the Slayer Legion. They stood behind the crest of a large dune that spanned several hundred metres and stood at about twenty metres high. On the other side of the dune, in the near distance, was another small village that stood in their way.

Drykar the Deckerdramon remained still as grains of sand blew off the summit of the dune and peppered his face. His red eyes winced slightly and he couldn't help but look at the Lex, the Agumon and sole survivor of the last village they crossed through. The young dinosaur clung close to him, as Lex was too scared of the others to do anything else but be close to the giant draconic crocodile, who he felt some comfort in. Drykar felt this bitterly ironic, as it was he who launched half of the missiles that destroyed Lex's father and village. The guilt from that attack still remained in his heart.

Beside him, balancing on the incline of the dune was Tartarus and Wromthrax. The buff Paildramon folded his arms and looked at Drykar and Wromthrax. "I say we blow the village to smithereens like the other one," he said with a grin.

Drykar frowned at the idea. "No, we should just bypass it. We'll go around it," he insisted.

Wromthrax shook his head. "We can't let anybody report back to the capital," the Examon said in agreement with Tartarus.

The Deckerdramon grit his set of giant, jagged teeth, wanting nothing more than to avoid a repeat of last time. "They aren't soldiers in these villages. They're _civilians_!" he said, gesturing to Lex.

Tartarus' facial features darkened as he bowed his head to stare at Drykar. "This is a _war_. As a former high ranking Dramon Empire officer, I thought you knew that."

Drykar glared at the proto-super soldier out of his left eye. "That doesn't mean we have to become _war criminals_!"

"You're awfully soft for someone who actively joined to destroy the rebels," Tartarus retorted.

"I didn't know that the term 'rebels' had extended to anybody who's _isn't_ a Dramon. Civilian or not," Drykar snarled at him.

The Paildramon chuckled and spat into the sand. "What do you care? You were able to roast that last village just fine. All you do is bombard them from a distance. Cold, detached, long range bombardment. It's not like you have to gut them face to face like I would, watching their blood and data spill out of them and their life slip away," he said, eyeing Lex as he did, causing the Agumon to squeak and hug closer to Drykar.

Drykar growled at him in warning, exhaust coming from the two pipes on his hind legs as his anger rose.

Tartarus smirked and looked back at the Deckerdramon. "If it bugs you that much, you can close your eyes as we pass through the rubble. All you need to do is blow it up."

Lex looked up at Drykar tearfully. He noticed, but the copper-coloured Dramon chose to remain professional. "No," he replied, not allowing all of the watching Dramon eyes persuade him one way or the other. "It's a waste of time and my energy and it serves no purpose to our overall objectives."

"I'm Ishton's second-in-command, so while he's not here, you do what I say," Tartarus warned.

"I categorically refuse," Drykar spoke, his deep voice unwavering.

Tartarus glared at him with blood red eyes, but finally smirked and shrugged. "Whatever. We still have another Deckerdramon who can do it. Argo, bombard it!" he commanded the Deckerdramon slightly farther down the ranks.

"Hold on just a secon-" Drykar protested, but he was cut off when Argo opened up the ports on his back.

"Yes sir!" the lower rank Deckerdramon responded. "_Deckerdra-Launcher!_"

Drykar watched helplessly as a salvo of missiles erupted from Argo's back, flying over the dune and landing in the village in a continuous stream. Smoke from the launching missiles swept through the ranks perched behind the large dune. As the thunder of explosions reverberated through the ground and air, Lex whimpered and clutched Drykar's left foreleg tightly. Drykar shut his eyes tightly and bowed his head. "_We're no better than them... _We've_ become the monsters..._" he thought ruefully.

Over the explosions, he could hear the sound of laughing. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Tartarus standing on the top of the dune, watching the explosions rip through the buildings. His laugh was of one who lived for war and killing, each battle fueling his adrenaline and allowing him to feel useful and on top of the world.

The Deckerdramon glared at the proto super soldier. "_Tartarus Dreadmor... I despise people like you._"

Finally the salvo ended and smoke rose into the sunny sky behind the large Paildramon's silhouette. Tartarus turned around with a wide grin. "Time to get moving, guys. We'll make camp in an hour."

With those words, the Slayer Legion moved out. Drykar lowered his snout and let the Agumon climb on. "Come on, Lex," he said with a sigh. "Focus on the back of my head. We're moving out." The Deckerdramon then spun his treads and climbed up the dune.

"_All in the name of vengeance..._"

-

Later that day, when the sun was beginning to touch the horizon, two azure blurs whipped across the orange desert sky. Ishton flapped the large blue wings of his Wingdramon form, enjoying the warm breeze against his scales while he could. He and his companion, the UlforceVeedramon known as Torrington who was messenger between Ishton and the Slayer Legion, flew through the desert of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty at extreme speeds as they made their way from the southeastern border of the Dramon Empire.

"This is the right direction?" Ishton asked his messenger curiously, overjoyed that the sun over the Palaeozoic Sovereignty was setting in time for him to meet up with the others.

Torrington nodded. "I'm positive, Ishton. They set up camp for the night," he replied.

"I see," the Wingdramon replied, soaring with proud determination. At the speed the both of them were flying, it only took them a couple hours to fly from the Dramon capital. However, they were beginning to slow down so they didn't accidentally miss their comrades.

"What are we going to do when we meet up with them?" the cobalt dragon man asked.

Ishton flapped his great wings again and turned his long necked head towards Torrington. "Let them rest. They've all been working hard, I'm sure. We all need to be in top shape for the coming battles. I just hope they've posted sentries."

"Does that answer your question?" Torrington asked, pointing forward.

Ishton looked ahead and saw an Examon flying towards them, his lance at the ready. Against the deep orange light the two recognized him to be Wromthrax. "Dragon," Wromthrax spoke, issuing the secret challenge.

"Sand," Ishton replied, answering the code word to confirm his identity. He then digivolved into his armoured Slayerdramon form as Wromthrax lowered his weapon and grew closer.

"Ishton. It is you," he greeted.

"You're on sentry duty?" Ishton asked, shaking his claw.

Wromthrax nodded. "We set up camp for the night. No campfires though."

The blue dragon nodded and gestured for his companion, Torrington, to go join the others. "How is everything going?"

"Smoothly," the red drake replied. "Everything's going according to our strategy. That said, we have yet to encounter any actual elements of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's military. I'm a bit worried."

"That they're setting up an ambush?" Ishton asked. "I don't think that's the case. This desert is vast and most of the population lives in or around the capital, so communication is poor. They probably have their guards down thinking they're safe after that peace treaty has been signed."

"Perhaps," Wromthrax said, flying alongside him down to the others members of the Slayer Legion. "How did your visit with Duroth go?" he asked, speaking the Dorbickmon's name with some disdain.

Ishton smiled reassuringly. "Just as planned," he answered. "I convinced him to send an army as soon as possible."

The Examon smiled. "Were there any set backs?"

"Only one. It was my fault for being greedy. I shouldn't have tried to talk to that Erebus Artorius. He ended up blabbing to Duroth about my intentions, but I managed to convince the fool that Erebus just had a grudge towards me."

"Excellent work," Wromthrax commended. "Our Legion's morale will definitely increase knowing that we have the Dramon Empire behind us. You must be tired. Why don't you go get some food and rest. You'll need plenty of both; as dimwitted as they are, the dinosaurs won't stay blind to this forever."

Ishton nodded and swooped down, landing on the ground not far from the other Dramon. They had set up camp around a medium-sized oasis that sat between two tall dunes, which enclosed the pond and foliage. The dragon man looked around, disturbed by a feeling of nostalgia. "_This place seems familiar...! This is where I met those two dinosaurs. Ranney and Strom. ...With Master Gotungir..._" he thought, his gold eyes grimacing at the memory. He sighed and sat down against a palm tree away from the main group, not in the mood to be bombarded with questions. "_Anyways, I need to get some rest. All that acting tired me out._"

Little did he know, he and his men were being watched from a cloud above.

-

Strom lay on his bed – or what passed for a bed, according to him – in his barracks room. The torches on the wall flickered as the sun continued to set outside, giving him enough light to see what he was doing without being bright enough to blind anyone who might come inside. Also resting on the fabric of the bed were several maps splayed out in front of Strom. They were mostly of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. On several of the maps were rocks and pebbles. His scaly brows were furrowed deep thought as he pondered them, doing his best to ignore the merry ruckus coming from outside of his room.

"_If the enemy were to attack this formation from this direction, then it would be best to have this team pull back while the Pteramon squad attacked from above and the third land team circles around from the right. But... tactics mean jackshit if they don't listen to me and follow orders. With Barik always undermining me and badmouthing me behind my back, they'll never respect me as a Field Officer,_" he thought to himself.

As he focused on the maps, he heard a pair of relatively light (for a dinosaur digimon) and clumsy pair of footsteps and a tapping sound after each step. He knew exactly who it was but he didn't turn around from his maps.

"Hey, Strommy! What are you doing?" Ranney asked, grinning as he walked in and looked over Strom's spiked shoulder. "Maps? That's no fun. Come out and join the festivities with the rest of us! The fifth Pteramon squad is having a drinking competition! One of them threw up on Raizer's foot!"

"Maybe later, Ranney," Strom replied, glancing over at the green dinosaur out of the corner of his eye. "I'm a bit busy right now."

"With what?" the DinoRexmon questioned playfully.

"Theoretical tactics. Braon always made me practice with these. It forces me to react to different environments and situation-"

"Yeah, yeah," Ranney interrupted. "You can do that anytime though! Come and have fun with us!"

"I'll pass," muttered the Spinomon.

The DinoRexmon raised an eyebrow. "...You're not scared of Barik, are you?" he asked with a slight grin.

Strom turned to Ranney with a bland expression. "Ranney, I stood up to Imego's Kaiser Mode; I'm not scared of a lizard who's a little bit bigger than me."

"Fine," Ranney answered. "If you say so..." The smaller raptor-like dinosaur then noticed the plate of food beside Strom's bed. On the plate was a bowl with meat stew in it. It was still over half full and there was no longer steam rising from it. "You've barely touched your supper. Don't tell me you got spoiled with exotic foods over with the Rebels."

"Huh?" Strom asked. He looked over to the bowl. "Oh, uh, no. I guess I forgot about it. You can have it if you want."

Ranney looked at the bowl, his mouth salivating at the prospect. He was about to reach for it but he shut his eyes and retracted his claws. "No. You eat it. You need your strength. Eat it now or I'll toast those maps of yours."

The Spinomon shot him an annoyed look but complied, reluctantly taking the bowl and pouring the chunky, luke-warm stew into his toothy maw.

"You shouldn't isolate yourself, Strom," Ranney said with a sigh.

Strom rolled his eyes. "Who says I'm doing that?"

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't put up walls between you and your soldiers. You need to bond with them if you want them to respect you. Otherwise you're just some blowhard who orders them around," Ranney explained. "That's why I'm out there drinking with them. That and it's fun!"

Strom groaned slightly, though he acknowledged that Ranney had a point... much to his surprise. "Do I have to?"

Ranney smirked and nodded. "I'll drag you out if I have to."

The orange and beige spinosaurus glugged down the rest of his soup, nearly choking on one of the hearty pieces of meat at one point, and stood to his feet with an air of defeat. "Fiiine. You win. If only so you won't nag me."

Beaming, the DinoRexmon nudged Strom's side with his head, ushering him towards the door. The two walked out into the recreational part of the barracks where about fifty Palaeozoic digimon of various shapes and sizes were drinking, socializing and having fun in general. Ranney looked at Strom expectantly and decided to speak up. "Okay! Two rounds for us!"

Barik glanced over and snorted a bit upon seeing Ranney with Strom. "You sure Strom can handle it, sir?" he asked Ranney.

Ranney grinned competitively. "I bet he could drink you under the table, Barik," he retorted playfully.

"I'm not drinking myself stupid, Ranney," Strom mumbled.

"It's okay, Strom; you're already stupid!" Ranney said with a smile.

The Spinomon shot him a glare and picked up one of the two wooden kegs that was rolled over to them. Ranney ripped off the top of his own keg with his teeth and picked the barrel up in his mouth, glugging it down.

As he opened his own keg, Strom observed Ranney with amusement. "And _I'm_ the idiot," he said before pouring some of the alcohol into his mouth.

Strom looked around and saw several drunken Pteramon attempting to race each other in the large barracks which ended up with them crashing into the walls, each other or other digimon. He grinned a bit and looked at Ranney. "Hey, I thought Sarki was in the Fifth Squadron," he said. "I don't see him here."

Ranney frowned and thought, remembering Strom occasionally talking with that Pteramon since coming back to the Sovereignty. "Oh, I think he was sent out on a patrol to the west. There were a few rumours about something or other and he was supposed to check it out."

"Gotcha," the Spinomon replied, downing more of the liquid. He was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol kicking in, the numb, tingling sensation in his head being a telltale sign. "With my luck, I bet we're going to have training tomorrow morning. We'll be nice and hungover for that."

"Aww, who caressss?" Ranney said, his voice beginning to slur. "You think too much, Strommy-wommy!"

The bladed dinosaur laughed and lightly punched him on the top of his head. "And you don't think enough. By the way, never call me that again. _Ever_. If any of the others heard, I'd never live it down."

"Live what down?" Barik asked, stumbling over unevenly. The larger Spinomon grinned at him. "The way you and your Rebel buddies got trounced saving the Alphamon bigwig from the Dramon capital?"

Strom's smile disappeared and his expression soured angrily. "What was that?" he demanded irately.

Barik laughed and wrapped his arm around Strom's neck roughly, headlocking him. "Oh, sorry, is that a sore spot with you, _sir_?"

"Right. Because you're so capable. You would have had Imego and his Kaiser Mode _begging_ for mercy if you had been there," Strom growled, trying to wrench out of the Spinomon's hold. "Let go of me."

"You're awfully high on yourself now that you're one of the Avengers," Barik said, gritting his teeth a bit. "You think you're so much better than us, don't you?"

"Barik..." Ranney warned.

Strom growled and ripped his head out of Barik's headlock, his two horns managing to cut into his aggressor's orange scales as he did. Barik clutched his bleeding forearm and swore in pain. Strom narrowed his eyes at him. "The only one here I think I'm better than is you, Field Trooper Kur," he said to Barik, gritting his teeth, but smiling defiantly to annoy the Spinomon further. "But I'm sure even newborn digimon feel that way too."

Barik snarled and lashed out, driving his fist into Strom's snout. Strom saw a flash of red and then felt blinding pain as he staggered backwards into the thick stone wall. His eyes watered on reflex as his snout throbbed and his nostrils bled. Strom slumped to the floor and grimaced.

"Barik Kur! Strom's a superior officer!" Ranney tried to yell, but his voice was drowned out by the drunken chanting of 'FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!'

The chanting increased as Strom stood to his feet unevenly and raised his drooping neck, his dagger-like teeth bared and his eyes narrowed. Barik grinned and readied his claws, seeing if Strom would counterattack. He was quite confident with the power of his punch and he was sure he would be able to beat the Spinomon.

"What's wrong? Don't think you can beat me?" Barik asked with confidence soaking his voice. "I didn't think an Avenger would be afraid. I'm going to prove that you're not fit to- ARF!"

Barik let out a winded gasp as Strom charged him and drove his head into his chest. Laughs and cheers erupted as Strom landed on his opponent and started laying into him with his fists. The larger Spinomon grunted and swore but retaliated with punches of his own.

"Guys! Stop! Aw crap!" Ranney yelled, only to find his voice once again smothered by laughter and the chant of 'FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!'

Strom growled and grabbed Barik's neck with one claw and beat him with the other, some of his punches missing due to the alcohol. In turn, Barik punched Strom in the face and delivered a particularly painful knee to between Strom's legs as they scuffled and brawled on the floor.

Ranney watched the two fight with a defeated expression, knowing all too well that he wouldn't be able to break them up. He knew for certain that he'd just be dragged into it if he tried to stop them anyways.

"Well... We're gonna be in trouble anyways. Let's start betting! Tomorrow's meal says Strom wins! Come on, Strommy, kick his _a_ss!"

Frantic, rugged breaths heaved from the dragon's nostrils as he flapped his great, mighty cobalt wings furiously. Each hurried flap buffeted the street several feet below, uplifting small clouds of dirt and dust. He sucked oxygen needily into his parched mouth and focused solely on what was ahead of him and what was behind him.

"Get him! Hurry!" a voice roared from behind him.

Sill hearing the beating of several wings following him, the azure drake banked to the left, flying up a street between rows of tall, stone houses, the architecture decorated with claw-like outcroppings. Down this street, he was protected from the sun that beat down on the vast city by the tall buildings that cast their shadows over him. His blue scales no longer glistened in the rays and he felt slightly less exposed down this route.

The Wingdramon craned his long neck behind him and saw four mega level Dramon digimon in heated pursuit. He swore in a weak, raspy voice and turned back forwards, his orange hair blowing in the wind as he righted himself.

"I can't let them get me," he muttered before giving a hard flap of his wings and darting to the right down another road.

He pushed the flying green form of a Coredramon out of the way immediately upon turning the corner. He needed all the space he could get to fly with his relatively large body and wide wingspan. Even one obstacle getting in his way could lead to his capture. The blue dragon whipped his tail behind him and soared between the buildings of the Dramon Empire's capital.

"After him!" one of his pursuers shouted. "Cut him off! Get one of the other guards to get a net!"

The Wingdramon winced and tried to hurry his flight, but found it extremely difficult. His body ached all over and he felt drained. He even resorted to flapping with the wings protruding from his forearms, as ridiculous as it made him look. While he had a decent lead, he knew he couldn't outfly them forever.

"_Need to escape somehow... If I could just hide somewhere... I'm so bloody thirsty..._" the Dramon thought.

"All civilians clear the area until we get him!" one of the draconic voices shouted from behind.

The Wingdramon growled and saw another street branching off to the left up ahead. He put all of his might into his wings. He just needed to widen the gap between himself and them...

With an agile twist of his body and a flap of the wings on his back, he shot down the street. As soon as he turned the corner, disappearing from the guards' sight, his face lit up with hope. The Wingdramon saw a balcony on the large house to his right and behind the balcony was an opening that led inside.

"_There's my chance to escape!_" he thought, grinning as he flew towards it.

He dug his claws into the balcony's stone railing and pushed off, flying into the open window. His wings, dorsal spike, and legs got jammed in the opening that was obviously not built for a digimon of his body size. Nevertheless, he persisted in his struggle. The dragon dug his claws into the inside wall as he tried to pull himself into the house. He let out a slight growl of pain as his wings bent back, but he finally managed to squeeze in. With the sudden freedom of making it past the opening, he tumbled to the stone floor, landing in an unceremonious heap.

A dirty cloth bag slipped off of his large spike and toppled onto the floor, spilling its contents. Several rolls of bread and a large slab of meat rolled out of the bag. The Wingdramon sighed in relief and crawled forward on his claws and knees, beginning to gather the items while still being mindful of the guards that chased him.

It was then that he noticed a pair of blue, metal boots standing before him. His heart froze with fear and he slowly raised his head to look up. A similarly azure dragon man adorned with majestic armour and a large 'V' on his chest stood before him, looking down at him with a level gaze. The Wingdramon's eyes widened upon setting eyes on the UlforceVeedramon.

"Wh-Who are...?" he asked, fear in his voice but his heart already anticipating defeat.

"My name is Gotungir," the UlforceVeedramon informed, folding his arms across his chest. He paused for a moment and heard the frantic shouts of the guards outside.

"Where did the thief fly off to?" a voice demanded from outside the large, comfortable house.

The Wingdramon winced and bowed his head.

Gotungir unfolded his arms and toyed with the V-Bracelet on his right arm, which was capable of activating a beam sabre. "And I'm also a high ranking officer in the military... much like the guards out there," he informed him matter-of-factly. "This food you have here isn't yours, is it...?"

The dragon's body ached all over. He was both physically and emotionally exhausted. His wings felt like they were about to give out, his stomach growled hungrily, his mouth longed for a drop of saliva and his ray of hope was stamped into nothingness by the realisation that he just flew into the house of a Dramon officer. There was nothing he could do now and he knew it. He couldn't hope to fight back against the mega level digimon and he couldn't even muster the strength or willpower to even try to escape again. He knew this was the end for him.

The Wingdramon's face tensed up and he broke down into tears. The frustration, sorrow and sense of defeat were too much for him to handle in the state he was in and he just couldn't hold it in any longer. His wings and tail drooped and he sobbed, overwhelmed by it all. Tears trickled down the silver helmet that rested on the upper half of his face and dripped onto the stone floor.

"I'll take that as a yes," Gotungir calmly said with a raised eyebrow. He bent down and picked up one of the rolls of bread, tossing it up and down in his hand for a few moments as he watched the Wingdramon cry. Despite the dragon's emotions, the UlforceVeedramon remained stoic, almost aloof. "...I've told you my name. What's your's?"

The Wingdramon looked up slightly with gold eyes which were glazed with a red hue. As miserable as he felt, he figured he didn't have anything to lose by answering. "I-Ishton," the twenty year old Wingdramon snivelled. "Ishton Kirzarv..."

"Well, Ishton, stand up straight and stop crying. You're a Dramon; show some pride," the dragon man said sternly before taking a bite out of the roll in his hand.

Ishton sniffed and wiped his eyes with his arm before standing shakily to his feet. Gotungir studied him carefully, looking him over.

"You're incredibly skinny," he remarked, pointing to Ishton's seemingly sucked in, practically concave gut. "Is that why you stole this food?"

The Wingdramon sniffled again and bowed his head at the shorter digimon. "I-I'm starving... And I don't have any money... J-Just needed enough to get by for a few more days..." he murmured guiltily.

Gotungir stroked his pointed chin as he observed the depleted dragon. "How long have you gone without food for?" he probed, trying to get his side of the story before doing anything rash.

"A few days..." Another tear dripped down his face. "I won't resist when you take me to prison..."

Gotungir remained silent, staring at him studiously. Finally, he nodded understandingly. "Who says you need to go to prison?" he asked.

Ishton looked up at him in surprise. "What?"

The UlforceVeedramon smiled a bit and placed his hands on his hips. "It's obvious that you're only a thief out of sheer necessity and I can understand your plight. Ergo, I won't turn you in... under the following circumstances. You must get a job in the military and you have to do whatever I say. Hmm... I'm guessing you don't have anywhere to stay, am I wrong?" he asked, his voice calm.

"I... I..." Ishton stammered, still in shock.

"In that case, you may stay with me, provided that you do those two things and also take daily baths; you smell dreadful. Do we have a deal, Ishton?" he asked, smirking a bit. Gotungir didn't mind having somebody around. Sure, Ishton was a thief, but Gotungir was confident in his ability to read people. If Ishton had a home, a job and support, there would be no reason for him to try anything. "One thing though, if you do want to try anything funny, think again; I would slice your wings into new curtains faster than you could blink an eye. Understood?"

A few pair of tears trickled down Ishton's face, his features revealing his graciousness. He bowed his head. "Y-Yes! Thank you so much, Master!" he sputtered.

Gotungir blinked, tinted a bit and raised an eyebrow. "M-Master?"

Ishton nodded rapidly. "You saved me, Gotungir. I owe you my life," he told him. "I'll do whatever you want. Thank you so much for this!"

The UlforceVeedramon grinned slightly and walked over, placing a hand on the top of Ishton's head, gently. "Just don't call me that too often; I'm only a few years older than you, it looks like. Besides, I wouldn't be an exceptional Dramon if I just let you starve to death. Have a hot bath while I prepare some food. I'll take care of your enlistment tomorrow."

"Thank you..." Ishton whispered, pressing against Gotungir's hand as his eyes closed in exhaustion. "Thank you, Master..." He then collapsed forwards and landed on the ground, fading into unconsciousness.

\-\

Ishton murmured inaudibly and slowly opened his eyes. This wasn't Gotungir's home...

Above him was the night sky. Balled up under his head was his green cape and beside him was his helmet and upper body armour. He exhaled longingly and scratched the blue scales on his chest as he looked up at the twinkling stars.

"_Gotungir..._" he thought, gazing at the vast space. "_Are you out there watching over me like you did on that day? Will I ever be with you again? Will our data ever meet, even after death?_"

Ishton's gold eyes glistened but he soon heard a shuffling from nearby. He sat up and looked around the dark. He was surrounded by snores and heavy breaths, supplied by the many members of the Slayer Legion.

Turning his horned head away from the cool desert breeze, he saw only one stirring form. A rather large form, at that. Standing away from the camp set up around the oasis, was the titan-like form of a Deckerdramon. Ishton noticed that Drykar was staring out over the dark landscape, perhaps admiring the starry horizon.

The shirtless Slayerdramon stood up and meandered over to him, being as careful as he could not to wake anybody else. Beside the massive crocodile digimon was the Agumon that Drykar had curiously brought along with them. He had meant to ask him about it, but he had been too busy to find the time since meeting up with the Slayer Legion at sunset.

"Drykar," Ishton called out in a hushed voice.

This prompted Drykar to turn his snouted head to the left and glance behind him out of one eye. "Ah, Ishton..." he greeted as quietly as he could, though his whisper was bassy enough to cause the ground directly beneath him to vibrate very slightly.

"Can you not sleep?" Ishton asked, sitting down beside Drykar and looking over at him.

"Something like that," Drykar answered, a sombre grin on his face. "...And you?"

"Something like that," Ishton echoed, a small smirk on his face. The Deckerdramon gave a slight chuckle.

The azure dragon man looked over at Lex, who was sleeping soundly against Drykar's toe, despite the trauma of the past few days. "That little one seems to have grown quite attached to you," he observed.

Drykar smiled fondly a bit and glanced at the Agumon in question. "I think it's me who has grown attached to him, to be quite honest," he admitted. His face turned mournful and he turned his head back frontwards, as if in shame. "I destroyed his village, you see... He was the only survivor. If he had been just slightly less lucky, I would have killed him too and been none the wiser."

"I see..." Ishton replied, nodding in empathy. "That's why you're bringing him along? We will be fighting in more battles, you know..."

The giant metal reptile sighed. "I know... His father was killed in the attack, but his mother lives in the capital. I was planning to bring him with us until we were close enough for him to find his own way to the city. I'm hoping his mother will have enough sense to get both him and herself out of the city before we invade. I refuse to kill anymore civilians, Ishton..." He looked at the Slayerdramon, his red eyes showing his strong feelings towards the issue.

"It was never my intention for civilians to die," Ishton reassured him. "But sometimes in war, it can't be helped..."

"I'm... aware," Drykar responded.

The Slayerdramon looked at the Deckerdramon carefully. "If you let him go back to the capital, won't he tell them that we're coming?" he asked.

"Do you really think they won't know by then anyways?" Drykar retorted. "The desert may be vast, but it would be naive to think the Sovereignty doesn't patrol their territory, especially after our undeclared attack during the Civil War."

"You're probably right," he conceded. "I won't stop you from sending him off."

"Thank you," Drykar said.

The Deckerdramon frowned and looked off into the starry sky again, becoming thoughtful and solemn. Ishton couldn't help but notice. "What's on your mind, friend?" Ishton asked curiously.

A soft breath escaped Drykar's nostrils. "...Are we doing the right thing, Ishton?" he asked.

After a moment, Ishton nodded. "...Yes. I believe we are," he said, turning his head up to the stars as well.

"Then why doesn't it feel like it?" Drykar said, glancing at Lex once again.

"Wars are messy, Drykar. Sometimes good digimon get hurt," the Slayerdramon replied.

Drykar grit his teeth. "You don't have to tell me that, Ishton..." he spoke sombrely.

Ishton placed a clawed hand on the foot of Drykar's left foreleg. He turned to him inquisitively, no malice present on his features. "Drykar, why did you join me when I asked you back in Wyrmeston?"

Drykar smiled sadly, not turning to look at his companion. "I... wanted revenge," he replied, his voice soft and reflective.

"Revenge?" Ishton asked.

Drykar nodded. "I..." he stopped, trying to place the words that jumbled in his throat. He raised his snout slightly and took a calming breath. "...As you know, I was an officer in the Dramon Empire's military. I was on the front, leading troops and managing assaults on the Rebels. I was away at the time..." he explained, looking down sadly.

"My wife and daughter were killed during one of the Rebels' retaliatory attacks. The Rebels attacked our village in the Dramon Empire and they were killed during the raid..." Drykar told him, his voice wavering.

Ishton stared at him with shock. "Drykar... I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "...What were their names?"

"Elle and Celia," he answered, not realizing that his large, red eyes were beginning to moisten.

"...So that's why I joined," Drykar explained dismissively. He quietly laughed a bit, but they were chuckles of sorrow.

The Deckerdramon's face became solemn once again and he stared off, as if his eyes were trying to find something that wasn't there. "...But now... I feel like we're no better than they are. I personally ripped Lex's father away from him... just like those bastards ripped my wife and daughter away from me..."

"Our cause is just," Ishton reassured him.

"And why is it just?" Drykar snapped. "Why are _you_ fighting, Ishton?"

The question hit him like a rock to the head. He was surprised. After a moment, he looked Drykar in the eye resolutely. "...The exact same reason you are, Drykar... Revenge."

"And who are you taking revenge for?" Drykar pressed.

"Gotungir..." Ishton whispered, turning his head away.

The Deckerdramon looked at him with surprise. "The Grand Marshal?" he asked in confusion.

Ishton nodded solemnly. "Before you judge me as an overzealous soldier, know that he was more than just a Grand Marshal to me..." he explained grimly. The memories stung at his draconic form. "He saved my life and took me in. He gave me a home, food and a job as a soldier. I had nothing before I met him... He was more than just my master, he was a close friend... My closest friend."

Drykar sighed and nodded understandingly. "I see... but revenge won't bring him back, will it?" he asked rhetorically.

"No," Ishton conceded. "But it will make me feel better... Gotungir will be able to live on in the afterlife more peacefully knowing he didn't die in vain."

"Risking the lives of all these men... and the lives of the Rebels and civilians too... isn't that egotistical, Ishton?"

"I didn't force any of you to come with me," Ishton explained, shaking his head. "Everybody here wants to fight the Rebels as well. Well, almost everyone..." He cast his eyes towards Drykar. "If you want to leave, I won't think any less of you. I respect you as a soldier and a friend."

Drykar sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere..." he told him. "It's not as if I have anything waiting for me back within the Dramon Empire... and if my presence here can save the lives of both our Dramon and civilians, then it's my duty as a soldier to stay right here." The crocodile looked down at the Agumon sleeping against his foot. "_And it's my duty as a father to make sure that Lex gets back to his mother safely..._"

Ishton smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Drykar. I was dreading the concept of losing your knowledge and experience," he said, standing to his feet. "You should get some rest. We'll need our energy for tomorrow."

Drykar nodded.

"I will pray to Yggdrasil for your family, Drykar," the Slayerdramon said as he turned around.

Drykar smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Ishton... I will pray to Yggdrasil and the Sovereigns for Gotungir as well..."

Ishton looked over his shoulder at Drykar with a tearful smile. "Thank you... So will I."

As the dragon man walked off, Drykar turned back forward and rested his snout on the sand. He watched wordlessly as a Pteramon in the distance, silhouetted only by one of the moons in the night, flew east towards the capital. Drykar closed his eyes and thought, knowing it was probably the last time he would be able to do so.


	8. Part 8: Towards Our Past

_**Chapter 8: Towards Our Past**_

Strom walked through the stifling darkness. The void was vast and overbearing. He knew this despite the fact that he couldn't see. The darkness enveloped him from each side, making him feel both claustrophobic and agoraphobic at the same time.

He walked forward apprehensively, not knowing where his next step he took would lead him. The shade was so thick that he couldn't even see his claws or feet. In this situation, he would rely on his dinosaurian senses, but he could smell nothing and hear nothing. It was like walking through space, the fear of being swallowed up by it never leaving him.

"_This is a really great idea, Strom,_" he said to himself sarcastically. "_You're a genius, deciding to walk into this recklessly. The Avengers must have really rubbed off on you..._"

He stepped further on what felt like solid ground. Strom constantly looked over his shoulder, worried something might jump out and try to kill him. He exhaled fearfully, though he didn't let it show on his face. His breath was that of a blue mist, due to his preparation of a _Blue Prominence_attack, should he need it.

"You are pathetic," a baleful voice whispered, flooding through his void-like surroundings like a blast of wind.

Strom tensed up and looked around, gritting his teeth. He still saw nobody. "_You're_pathetic!" he retaliated, besides the fact that he didn't know who he was talking to. "Show your face! Or are you insecure because it's so hideous?"

"No," the masculine voice muttered, oozing with hate and pride as it echoed through the darkness. "I won't be beaten, not by you bleeding-heart rebels. NEVER!"

"Who are you?" Strom snarled, looking every which way in the darkness. He saw nothing.

There was a light chuckle. And then...

"**Mode Change! Kaiser Mode!**"

Strom's gold eyes widened in terror. "No... No!"

A figure suddenly emerged from the thick veil of black. Walking towards him in the darkness was Imego, the Imperialdramon. His body was humanoid, like that of Paladin Mode. However, his armour and scales were a deep blood red colour. Almost black. He was barely visible against the darkness aside for the bloody glint in his armour and eyes. His armour was adorned with gold trimmings, as was his massive Twilight Sword, which dripped with blood with an afterglow of data.

"It... It can't be! You're dead!" he shouted disbelievingly. Desperately, he acted. "_Blue Prominence!_"

With a roar, Strom tried to fire a massive, burning, plasma beam from his maw. ...However, nothing came out. Fear gripped his heart, tightening its hold on him as he realized his helplessness.

"Wh-what?" he demanded. "You've got to be kidding! _Blue Prominence!_"

Nothing.

Strom snarled and got down on all fours, arching his back so that the blades on his spike pointed forwards towards the calmly approaching Imego. "This'll do it! _Sonic Slash Rain!_"

The blades refused to budge from their place on his back. Strom's heart raced and he stood to his feet, staggering backwards. He was faced with the nightmare of the Civil War.

But then he saw a golden glint race towards Imego from above. "Rai!" he called out, recognizing him as one of the Avengers and his friend.

The gold Rapidmon didn't respond. He simply flew straight at Imego, his cannons and missile ports blazing with gunfire.

"_Exa Crusher_," Imego spoke. A sphere of absolute power surged from his chest and, in an instant, Rai was gone.

"NO!" Strom shouted. He tried to sprint forwards but it was as if his feet were glued to the ground.

The next to challenge the powerful Kaiser Mode was Karasu and Valra, a Ravemon and TigerVespamon. The two Avengers charged him from both sides. Strom watched helplessly as Imego swung his Twilight sword and turned them both into scattering data.

"STOP IT!" he roared, falling on his tailed behind and shutting his eyes as tears began to form.

Suddenly, a Dynasmon descended in front of him, stopping in front of Strom's face to hover in front of the Spinomon. Strom opened his eyes and saw the humanoid, violet dragon adorned with white and gold armour. In his hand was a beautiful draconic sword. The Wyrmflame.

"Ragna," Strom whispered.

There was a silence... and then Ragna smiled.

"Strom..." he spoke. His voice was as clear as the stillest water. It felt wise and sagely, but direct and honest. No less than what Strom would expect from the warrior poet. "...What good can come from dwelling on the past?"

Strom remained silent, staring at him.

Ragna continued. "Remember what I said, Strom. Put it behind you. Embrace tomorrow, whatever it may bring."

The Dynasmon turned around with a few flaps of his purple wings. He faced Imego resolutely, but looked over his shoulder at his friend. "You're going to change, Strom..."

He flapped his wings and charged at the Imperialdramon Kaiser Mode. "And move towards our future!" he shouted.

Strom watched in horror as Ragna ripped his sword, the Wyrmflame, down Imego's chest, leaving a deep, glowing gash. Imego then turned Ragna into data with a slash of his sword.

However, instead of walking towards Strom like he had been, Imego stood still in the void-like darkness. The giant gash on the dragon man's armour burned an intense, bright blue. Strom felt the similarly coloured scars on his hand sear with blistering pain as well.

He watched as the armour around the gash began to crack and splinter, the fractures going wider with each slow second.

Strom's eyes widened as Imego broke apart in shards of armour and rays of blue light. From within Imego's exploding body soared a red dragon with a mighty wingspan. The crimson drake's eyes flared with a piercing, emerald glint as he whipped towards Strom, rushing him dauntlessly.

"Strom," it snarled before overtaking him.

\-\

Strom's eyes snapped open, revealing green irises as he jolted awake. He let out a quick snarl and immediately raised his head and looked around.

He sighed. He was back in his room. It was just a bad dream...

Ranney, who was standing beside Strom, stretching his limbs when Strom had started awake, eyed him quizzically. "Good, you're awake. You know what's weird? For a second, it looked like you had green eyes, not gold ones."

Strom grimaced and looked away from the DinoRexmon, allowing his rapid breathing and heart rate to die down from the emotionally draining nightmare. He hoped that he would never have a dream like that again, though he sorely doubted that he would be that lucky.

"...Are you okay?" Ranney asked, noticing Strom's paler than usual face.

"Not so loud," Strom groaned dismissively, feeling his head pounding. Much to his confusion, he also felt a sharp pain down in his hand. He looked down at his palm but found that the healing scars had not reopened. He groaned and stumbled to his feet, holding his head. "Ugh, my face hurts, too..."

"You got in a fight with Barik. Got a nice black eye while you were at it. I'm guessing you don't remember getting chewed out by our superior," Ranney said, also wincing a little.

"Not really," Strom responded. "That's the last time I'm ever listening to you telling me to have fun. I don't know what I was thinking. Your ideas are about as good as being told to take a bath in a volcano. I'm as much to blame as you are for actually _listening_to you."

The DinoRexmon grinned a bit. "Well, Aegyptu wants us in his palace ASAP. It's apparently important. Come on!"

"Lucky us," Strom mumbled. "No rest for the weary."

The pair set off, walking out of the barracks as coherently as they could. They walked down the inclined road and turned, continuing on until they reached the titanous palace. Strom walked through the massive front doors first, followed by Ranney. Already standing in the throne room were about fifty different digimon. They were mostly officers, much like Strom and Ranney were. On the other side of the group, Strom saw Gapsar, who acknowledged him with a nod.

"Sorry we're late, sire," Ranney apologized, bowing his head as he and Strom took their places beside the others.

"I hope you two aren't too hungover to listen to basic words," King Aegyptu said wryly.

"I wonder if that's where I get my smart mouth," Strom muttered.

"What was that?" Aegyptu asked, narrowing his gaze on Strom.

"Nothing, sire. Not too hungover, sire," he reiterated, bowing his head slightly.

It was then that Strom noticed a familiar Pteramon hovering anxiously next to King Aegyptu. "_Sarki?_" he thought to himself. "_Why is he here? He's not an officer._"

King Aegpytu nodded to himself. "Now that everyone's here..." he turned to Sarki, his face serious. "Sky Guard Atilus. Tell everyone what you told me."

Sarki nodded, bowing his head before turning to the crowd. "King Aegyptu asked me to patrol out west, towards the territory nearest to the Dramon Empire. There were rumours that he wanted to verify. It was said that the Dramon were attacking us again. There was a rumour that two of our outlying villages were completely destroyed."

"That's ridiculous!" a SaberLeomon called out. "That pacifist Duroth is in charge and they signed a peace treaty!"

"Don't interrupt," Aegyptu warned. He looked at Sarki. "Continue, soldier."

"It was around sunset yesterday. I thought I saw two Deckerdramon in the distance, so I went to check it out. Not only did I see two Deckerdramon, but I saw a whole army of Dramon in our territory!"

Gasps and anxious chatter erupted among the group.

Strom glared at nothing in particular. "_It can't be... That Dorbickmon and MailBirdramon seemed genuine when they talked about wanting peace. Was it all just a clever ruse to make us lower our guards? Damnit. Of course. Politicians and their tricks... Is there anybody trustworthy left?_"

"Settle down!" Aegyptu boomed, his commanding voice silencing the room. "How many were there?"

"A few thousand," Sarki explained. "Not enough to be a regular army, but still too many for me to count. I had to hide in the clouds until night to avoid being detected. That's when I escaped and flew back here. They're heading in the direction of the capital, sire."

Aegyptu nodded calmly and stifled a growl. He couldn't let himself appear agitated or nervous in front of his subordinates.

"What do we do, my lord?" a voice shouted out.

"I've already sent an envoy to the Dramon Empire to speak with that Duroth. I want to find out exactly what he's up to," Aegyptu explained. "That said, I refuse to let us sit by while we're attacked once again. We're going out to meet them!"

Several roars of approval sounded out within the throne room. Strom, however, felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Aegyptu stepped forwards, his fist clenched and his eyes passionate. "We'll meet this army in battle and drive them out of our desert! We've done it before, we can do it again!"

"B-But my lord! Last time we had the help of the Avengers!" a Brachiomon said.

Aegyptu grinned. "Never underestimate the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. Besides, we have two Avengers with us. Strom? Gapsar?"

Gapsar flushed a bit but bowed his head. "Sire!"

Strom glanced off to the side, but gave a slight nod. "This time... I will help," he spoke quietly.

The giant Spinomon king nodded gratefully. "Here's the plan, then... Strom, you take your Desert Vanguard battalion and scout that army out. Don't engage them yet. Based on what you see, I want you to come up with a solid strategy. Gapsar, you'll take your Desert Support battalion and follow them from a distance. Should they get into trouble, you'll back them up. Oh, and Gapsar, if you need to use your Gaiomon form, make sure you tie a blue scarf or something around yourself so we know you're not an enemy," he explained. "Finally, I'll be leading the main army from behind both of you. We'll be comparatively slow due to our sheer size, so that'll give you time to devise a strategy. If you're overwhelmed, retreat and meet up with the main army and then we'll all hit them with everything we've got. Understood?"

Several nods and affirmative responses followed. "Good. Now all of you meet up with your soldiers," he said, before his eyes widened a bit. "Oh! That's right. Sarki, lead Strom and his Vanguard to where you saw the Dramon. Meet up with your squadron when they arrive there with the rest of us."

The Pteramon nodded and flew over to Strom and Ranney, who were among the crowd of digimon herding out of the palace. "Hey, Strom, Strom's friend."

"Ranney," the DinoRexmon replied with a grin.

"Hey, Sarki," Strom greeted. He looked at Ranney quizzically. "I don't know how you can be smiling at a time like this."

"We get to kick some Dramon butt," Ranney replied with a smile.

The Spinomon shook his head. "You're an officer now, Ranney; this isn't a game. Good digimon die in wars. We need to stop this at all costs before it turns into another pointless conflict." Strom quickened his stride and walked ahead of them. Ranney frowned in response, feeling sheepish.

"What's with Mister Grumpy?" Sarki asked, glancing down at Ranney. "Uh, sir," he corrected himself, realizing he was in the company of officers.

"He's right," Ranney sighed. "I think he's still a bit mad at me though."

"Maybe I'll go talk to him," the Pteramon replied, flying ahead of Ranney and coming up beside Strom's face. Strom looked over at him and saw the grinning pterodactyl digimon. "What's with you, Field Officer?"

"Not a thing," Strom replied flippantly. Upon catching Sarki's gaze, he rolled his eyes. "I'm just hungover and had a bad dream, okay? ...Oh, and there's the fact that the Dramon want to start another war with us. You know, the usual."

The Pteramon chuckled grimly. "Yeah, I see... I guess wars aren't that fun when it comes down to it."

"That's putting it lightly," the orange dinosaur said. "Being an Avenger isn't a cake walk like everyone seems to think. Anyway, that's enough moaning from me. What can you tell me about what you saw?"

Sarki gave a 'hmm' and thought to himself. "Like I said, there were a few thousand of them. I really couldn't tell you who the officers were. They all seemed and acted like grunts or low rank officers. Maybe the Deckerdramon that had the Agumon hostage. I would have gone to try and rescue him, but I would have been spotted and Deckerdramons are notorious for their anti-air capabilities."

"Hostage?" Strom demanded. "Great, they'll be sure to use that against us."

"Well... I can't be sure that he was a hostage," Sarki admitted. "The kid was clutching onto the guy's leg. It was almost like the croc was protecting him or something. I don't know."

"Anything else?"

Sarki nodded. "Their camp was by a big oasis and it was a pretty diverse group. Land-based Dramon, air-based Dramon, and there were even a few Seadramon," he explained. "Oh, and on my way back, early this morning, I saw a sandstorm heading in a south-western direction."

Strom's eyes lit up. "A sandstorm, huh?" he asked, a small grin on his face. "Was it heading towards them?"

"Sorta. If they went straight east, it might come across them."

The Spinomon nodded, beginning to go over strategies in his head. Ranney caught up to them before they arrived in front of the barracks. Stopping at the door, Strom looked over at Sarki. "You know the way back there, right?"

"Like the bottom of my wing," Sarki said with a smile.

"Great," Strom replied, turning to Ranney. "You're going to help me explain the situation?"

Ranney nodded. "Yessir! I'll keep Barik off your spiny back while I'm at it, too."

"Thanks," Strom said. He sighed and looked at the barracks door in front of him. "I knew it was too good to be true..."

With that, the three went in.

* * *

><p>"I can't <em>stand <em>this!"

Ishton growled as he sat beneath the fronds of a palm tree, right next to the pond of the oasis. Ever since the blazing hot sun rose, he refused to put on his chest plate and helmet. Sweat dripped down his scales and he bore a dangerous sneer.

"_It's so bloody hot that even I'm having serious doubts about coming back to this horrible place,_" he internally groaned. "_No. I refuse to turn back now. It's just uncomfortable heat. I will see this through to the very end._"

He continued sitting under the tree, sharpening his segmented sword, the Fragarach, with a rock. It was already pretty sharp as it was just recently given to him by the blacksmith in Wyrmeston, but it helped take his mind off the smouldering heat. Every so often, he put the Fragarach down and dipped his hands into the pond, taking the water out and pouring it on himself. Ishton still didn't know how anybody could stand to live down here.

Wromthrax walked over, fanning himself with his sentient Caledfwlch wings as he meandered. "Ishton," he greeted, showing noticeable discomfort. "Many of our comrades want to know when we'll start moving again. The heat is becoming agonizing," he explained.

"Extremely soon," Ishton said, shouldering his entwining sword against his blue scales. "We can't afford to wait around much longer anyways. Time is essential."

"But shouldn't we wait for the Dramon Empire's army? They are coming today, right?" Wromthrax asked. "As much as I'd like to get flying..."

"We can't," the Slayerdramon responded. "If we wait, we'll give the Palaeozoic Sovereignty enough time to start strategizing and building a defensive line. The Dramon Empire's army is powerful, but they suffered heavy casualties and it's not a guaranteed victory when they show up. It's the Slayer Legion's job to spread chaos and prevent any defensive line from being formed, paving the way for our reinforcements. If we're fortunate enough, there's a chance we could even take them ourselves."

"Right. I understand," the Examon said, starting to shoulder his lance, but immediately discarding the idea upon feeling the high temperature of the superheated, black metal.

"Start rallying the others," Ishton explained, looking across the small camp at the thousands of idle Dramon. "Then we'll get moving."

As Wromthrax nodded and jogged off, Ishton looked up at the eastern dune. Drykar sat at the apex, sunken into the sand quite a bit, but focused on something on the other side of the dune, obscured from the dragon man's sight.

Drykar looked down the slight incline at Lex, who stood before him. The Agumon looked worried and insecure.

"Go on, Lex," Drykar reassured. "It's okay."

"But I don't want to leave you, Mister Drykar," the young Agumon said. "I don't wanna be all alone..."

The Deckerdramon smiled warmly. "But you said you know the way back from here."

"I still don't wan' to..." he complained.

"Don't want to see your Mom?" Drykar asked.

Lex thought about it for a moment and nodded. "But... it's a long way... and I don't want to leave you. Can't you come with me? Daddy would have..." he explained.

Drykar grimaced and slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry... I can't... Somebody like me wouldn't be allowed in the city," he explained.

"Why not?" Lex asked him innocently. "Mister Drykar is a really nice, big digimon. He's a good digimon too! Good digimon should be allowed to go anywhere!"

Drykar stared at him, deeply touched by the Agumon's words. "Lex, I..." he tried to say, but the tears forming in his eyes prevented him from finishing his sentence. "Please... Just go, okay? Your mom misses you. Go for me, okay?"

Lex gazed at the large digimon, wondering why Drykar's big red eyes seemed wetter than usual. "But..."

"Promise?" Drykar asked, offering a small smile.

"...Promise," Lex replied, though a bit reluctantly.

Before he could do anything, Lex stepped forward and hugged the end of Drykar's long snout. "Thank you for being my friend after Daddy died..." he said warmly, smiling and hugging him close.

"L-Lex..." he replied, shocked. A tear dripped down his face and he smiled, nuzzling his snout against the Agumon in return. "You're welcome... Thanks for being my friend, too..."

Lex smiled and released him. "Come and visit sometime!" he said, turning around and running down the dune.

"I'll try," Drykar responded, sniffling a bit and grinning as he watched the Agumon run down the dune and onto the flat sand at the bottom. "And be safe!"

"I will!" Lex said as he ran in a straight line across the sand.

Drykar smiled. The last thing he wanted to do was to get Lex involved in their upcoming battles. He had told the Agumon to tell his mother to get them and as many other civilians as possible to leave the capital. The Deckerdramon wasn't fond of the idea of fighting the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, but if they had to, he at least wanted the civilians as far away as possible.

He continued watching the Agumon run off, but he was soon distracted when a voice yelled out from his right.

"_Desperado Blaster!_"

Drykar's head whipped towards the voice and he watched with horror as Tartarus opened fire from his hip cannons from atop the dune he was on. The loud, popping sounds of gunfire ripped through the air. The Deckerdramon looked back towards Lex – Tartarus' intended target.

The young Agumon let out a cry of shock as blasts of sand burst up around him. Lex jumped to the right to avoid one of the beam bullets from hitting him, but he soon fell to the ground, his claws over his head and quaking with fear.

Tartarus laughed as he continued firing, the beam bullets hitting all around the terrified Agumon. "So close that time!" he chuckled over the sound of his _Desperado Blaster_attack.

"STOP IT!" Drykar roared in utter fury. The gigantic crocodile ripped across the top of the dune towards Tartarus, his tank treads spitting up waves of sand as he travelled at massive velocity.

Before Tartarus could even turn to brace himself, Drykar slammed snout-first into the Paildramon, driving the proto super soldier into the ground and dragging him across the sand until finally coming to a stop.

Tartarus growled in pain and tried to breathe at the incredible weight of Drykar and his metal snout pressing down on his chest. "Wh-What the... hell?" he gasped, using his incredible might to try and push Drykar back.

"I could ask you the same question!" Drykar snarled through gritted teeth. "Run, Lex! Hurry!" he called to the Agumon as he continued pressing the proto super soldier down.

Despite his immense fear, Lex saw what Drykar did for him and immediately followed his instructions, bolting across the sand in the direction of the capital.

"Damnit... Get offa me, you fat prick!" With a push of his mighty arms, Tartarus moved Drykar's head up just enough for him to slide out. He jumped back and got to a stand. "What the hell's your problem?"

"You tried to kill that child!" Drykar growled.

"It was just a bit of target practice," Tartarus replied, shrugging but still glaring at him.

"You were shooting at a living digimon!" he protested.

"Can you think of a better target to practice on?" the Paildramon asked, a shadowy smile appearing on his face.

"How can you be such a heartless monster?" Drykar demanded.

Tartarus splayed his grin at the Deckerdramon. "You don't get to be a successful proto super soldier by giving out hugs, you know. You're trained to kill digimon since before you can remember. It becomes your life... and you live your life by taking others'," he explained, his gruff voice reflecting indifference. He chuckled, though his crimson eyes remained glued to Drykar's. "What else would I live for? I accept what my life is. Blood and killing... Anything else is a complete waste of my talents." Tartarus' smirk widened. "And I have to say, I love it."

Drykar growled in hatred and disgust at everything that the Paildramon was. "You kill people because it makes you feel good about yourself? You think you're justified just because you have the potential?"

"Honestly, yeah. And isn't that what everybody lives for?" the Paildramon asked. "What's more satisfying than being able to live the life you have to the fullest?"

"You selfish scum. You're robbing others of their lives just so you can feel fulfilled! You don't give a second thought about them or their friends and families! You couldn't possibly understand the pain of losing somebody you care for!" Drykar growled.

"Why don't you cry about it a little more? People will always die, croc. Know what else? There'll always be wars. They're as inevitable as the sun setting. 'Cause of that, there'll always be a need for people like me. If every soldier was like you, we'd be annihilated. Having a conscience is for peacetime, not war," Tartarus explained.

"Then I suppose a conscienceless digimon like you would wish for endless war and bloodshed," the large digimon responded, narrowing his eyes, "because there's no place for something like you in a world of love and peace. Yes, if every digimon was like you, war and death is all there would ever be."

Tartarus smirked and glanced down the dune to see Ishton running up towards them. The two quarrelling dragons had gained a crowd of draconic onlookers. Drykar looked in the direction that Lex ran and saw that the Agumon was almost out of sight. He sighed in relief.

"Tartarus! Drykar! What's going on?" Ishton asked, reaching the apex of the dune.

"Nothing at all, Ishton," Tartarus responded, smirking and folding his arms across his bruising chest.

Ishton looked at Drykar for confirmation. Drykar shook his head tiredly. "It's nothing... Just a disagreement."

"Where's that Agumon of yours, Drykar?" Ishton asked, not entirely convinced. He turned to Tartarus. "I heard gunfire."

"I let him go, like I told you I would," the Deckerdramon explained.

"I thought the brat might've been escaping so I tried to scare him," Tartarus butted in before Drykar had a chance to vilify him. "The kid's fine, though. That's why me and the big guy were arguing."

"Fine then," Ishton replied. "We're moving out now. Everybody get ready and start moving. Once we head out, the heat won't feel as bad as it does now."

Tartarus nodded and saluted. "Sure thing." The Paildramon cast Drykar a final grin before flapping his wings and flying down the eastern side of the dune in the direction they planned to move.

The Deckerdramon nodded at Ishton. "I'm ready when everyone else is," he explained.

Ishton smiled. "Good." He turned around to the legion of dragons by the oasis behind him. Each one looked at him in anticipation, eager to follow his instructions readily. "Okay, everyone. Leave everything you don't need for battle. This is our base of operations. In the extremely rare case that we'll need to retreat and wait for the main army, this is the place where we'll fall back to. You're all smart Dramon; I'm sure you can find it. Just take your weapons and armour. Who's ready to kick some dinosaur tail?"

Shouts of adrenaline and excitement resounded.

"Then let's head out!" the Slayerdramon commanded, leaving his helmet and upper body armour behind as he flew down the dune.

Drykar drove beside him, looking at him curiously. "You're leaving your armour?"

Ishton grinned and nodded. "I'd rather not die from heat stroke on the way to battle. That wouldn't be very dignified. Besides, the trade off of protection for mobility isn't necessarily a bad one," he explained.

"If that's what you want," the Deckerdramon replied guardedly.

The Slayerdramon remained quiet and continued flying forward in the thick heat. He looked forward towards the sandy horizon, but the view was distorted by ripples of heat in the air. Ishton wiped beads of sweat off of his horned head and closed his eyes. "_Gotungir, today I'll take my revenge for you... But whether or not I show them the same mercy that you were denied... Well, we'll just have to see._"

* * *

><p>The Desert Vanguard walked through the desert in the heat of the afternoon sun. They walked in a staggered formation, Sarki leading the way.<p>

The Desert Vanguard was a small battalion of only about a hundred members. While small, its chosen members were elites when it comes to offensive capabilities. Its small size was ideal for a patrol mission like this as they were highly manoeuvrable but could still hold their own in battle if engaged.

Behind the Pteramon scout walked Strom, who looked around warily. Beside him was Ranney, doing the same. Strom looked behind him at the troops. Among them were several Spinomon, the same number of DinoRexmon, about ten Triceramon X, and a handful of the best MetalTyrannomon, MasterTyrannomon, DinoTigermon from each species. Among them were also plenty of the Greymon who felt they had more allegiance to the Palaeozoic Sovereignty than they did the Greymon Corp of the Rebels. Among them were both varieties of MetalGreymon, two WarGreymon, one BlackWarGreymon and one ZeekGreymon.

They travelled in the valleys of the dune and around the dunes themselves. This provided them with concealment, just in case they met with the Dramon invaders. Their mission was to scout them out, not attack them alone.

Despite having twenty foot tall digimon such as Spinomon and the ZeekGreymon, the dunes were tall enough to hide behind if everyone lay down.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Ranney asked Sarki curiously. The DinoRexmon was looking around ardently.

Sarki nodded. "I didn't get the rank of Sky Guard for nothing. I'm a pretty decent patroller," he explained. "They were right around a big oasis between two dunes. I don't remember the exact coordinates, but I know where I'm going."

"So do I," Ranney spoke knowledgeably. He knew he recognized this terrain.

Strom looked at the DinoRexmon in surprise. "You do?" he asked, his voice sounding a mixture of impressed and unconvinced.

"They're at the oasis where I met Goat-tonguer and Fishtin," Ranney explained, frowning at the bad memory of meeting the UlforceVeedramon X and Slayerdramon, not to mention what came after.

"...I can't say I remember," Strom replied, perturbed at being reminded of when Ranney was forced to give him up.

"You were asleep..." Ranney answered.

"And Strom sleeps like a rock!" Sarki chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a bit after noticing it suddenly drop.

Strom rolled his eyes but grinned. The Spinomon raised his long neck and poked his head up over the apex of the dune they were passing behind. "But if the Dramon _are_attacking us, chances are they'd have moved out by now. They wouldn't just sit around and wait for us to notice them. Even Dramon aren't that stupid," he explained.

Ranney nodded. "So that means we're going to meet up with them sooner than we expected," he figured, frowning.

"If we go by the likely idea that they're heading straight for the capital, yeah," the spinosaurus concluded. He growled. "I can't believe they're dumb enough to start another war... Everybody's unified against them now."

"Yeah, but we don't know who these guys are," Sarki replied. "Maybe they didn't get the memo that the war was over." The Pteramon flew a bit higher, still scanning the area. "Hey, by the way, Strom, you didn't tell me you were one of the Avengers."

"It's not exactly something I'm going to go around bragging about," Strom responded as he signalled to the ZeekGreymon to duck more.

Sarki raised an eyebrow. "Are you ashamed or something?"

"No, I just don't want more digimon like Barik on my tail. It's not like I asked to be an Avenger. I was assigned to the team and tried to do the best that I could," he explained.

"I still don't get what his problem is," Ranney piped up. "Maybe he's jealous or something."

"Maybe he thinks he should have been on the Avengers instead," Strom reasoned. The Spinomon looked up at Sarki, who was flying above him a bit. "Anyways, spot anything?"

Sarki squinted his eyes and flew upwards. "...Yeah."

Strom immediately raised his arm and everybody gently dropped into a prone position. "Is it them?" he demanded in a low voice.

"No no," the Pteramon said, landing on the steep dune that the Desert Vanguard group was hiding behind. "It's a kid... Hey! You!"

Sarki flew higher, catching the attention of the young Agumon who was jogging through the desert. The rookie digimon's face lit up upon seeing a fellow Palaeozoic digimon. He ran full sprint over to and up the dune.

"I found somebody!" the Agumon said aloud with excitement. He reached the top of the dune and found the hundred-some group of soldiers hiding on the other side. "...A whole lot of somebodies."

"Who are you, kid?" Ranney asked, standing up straight.

"I'm Lex," he replied, walking down the side towards him. "What's your name, mister?"

"I'm Ranney," the DinoRexmon replied, smiling.

Strom rolled his eyes. "Rann, while I'm thrilled you finally found somebody you can relate to, now's not the time to be making new friends."

"You don't want to be my friend?" Lex asked the Spinomon, hurt.

Strom palmed his face. "Sure, I'd love to. What are you doing out here anyways?"

"Mister Drykar told me to go this way," Lex explained as if it were perfectly reasonable.

"Who's that?" Sarki asked, landing on the near side of the dune.

The Agumon smiled. "A great big Deckerdramon! He's really strong and nice. He even took care of me after Daddy and my home died. He and all of his friends are right over there," he explained, pointing over the top of the dune and into the distance.

The mood of the entire group suddenly grew tense and everybody went silent. Dread filled their hearts as they came to the realisation that what Sarki had told them was indeed true. Strom turned to Ranney, a grim expression on his face. Ranney gave his a reassuring nod in response.

Strom stifled a sigh and looked at Sarki. "Sarki, take the kid here back to the main force and meet up with your squadron. They can get somebody to bring him somewhere safe," he ordered.

"But Strom!" Sarki protested, wanting to stay with them and fight if the need arose.

"That's 'Field Officer', Sky Guard Atilus," Strom said sternly. "And this is an order. Our priority here is to scout out the enemy and their formation and then retreat back to Gapsar's soldiers and the main force. If we do get dragged into a fight, it's going to be very messy. You should know this better than anyone since it was you that saw them to begin with."

The Pteramon cringed but nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Yes, sir," he told him, flying up and gently taking Lex in his talons. "But I'm coming back, Strom. Just hang in there until then."

Strom smiled and nodded at him. "We make no promises."

Lex let out a 'whee' as Sarki flew through the air, soaring over the other members of the Desert Vanguard. The Pteramon looked over his shoulder. "Anything else, Strom?" he asked.

"Look out for that sandstorm you mentioned," the Spinomon explained. In response, Sarki grinned and winked at him before disappearing from view over the crest of another dune.

Strom turned to the others. "Okay, everybody get as low as you can go and don't move. I don't care if Barik's feeling you up; don't make a sound," he explained. He turned to the ZeekGreymon among them. "Especially you, Raizer. You may blend in with the sand, but you're still as shiny as an attention-obsessed ShineGreymon."

Barik rolled his eyes and stepped forward. "Not even a 'please'?" he asked.

"_Please _don't do something that will get you and everyone else here killed," Strom said, his tone matted with wryness. "Happy?"

As everyone did as they were told, Barik grunted and went prone, crawling up to near the top of the dune beside them. Ranney squatted down and both he and Strom poked their heads over the crest of the dune.

On the opposite side, the hot, desert sand levelled off and became more-or-less flat and plane-like, with the exception of a few dunes and sandy hills resting further towards the blurry horizon.

"See anything?" Ranney whispered, watching carefully.

Strom shook his head. "They must be obstructed by that big dune way over there," he explained.

"You're taking the hearsay of a little kid," Barik muttered. "Yeah, I can see why you were chosen as a field officer."

"Shut up," Strom muttered. "You can be a prick to me later when our lives aren't on the line."

Ranney nodded. "Yeah. Keep things profession- woah!" the raptor-like digimon immediately dropped to the ground, prompting Strom and Barik to do the same.

"What is it?" Strom demanded in a fierce whisper.

"See for yourself."

The Spinomon peered over the dune to do just that. Despite the refracted light from the heat, causing the horizon to appear wavy, Strom saw movement on the dune across the long glade of sand. It was the dune that obstructed their sight before.

He made out several small figures proceeding over the crest. Followed by more. And more.

And more.

Within a few seconds, the sandy clearing was teeming with Dramon, as was the once clear sky in the distance. Strom's eyes widened and he ducked down.

"They're headed right for us. We have to relocate to the flanks and then retreat, ASAP," he told them.

Barik continued to peer over the dune. "There's not that many. We can take them... They even brought Champion levels along."

Strom growled and yanked Barik down before he could be spotted. "That's not our mission," he hissed. "If you want to die, go right ahead! But I'm not letting you risk the rest of our lives!"

The larger Spinomon sneered. "So your true colours finally show. And that colour is yellow."

"I'm not a coward," Strom growled, grabbing Barik by the throat firmly. "I'm somebody who doesn't want to watch anymore of his friends die for nothing." With that, Strom swung his arm outwards and sent Barik tumbling down the dune towards the other dinosaur digimon.

"Follow me," Strom ordered firmly.

Ranney smiled with pride. "You heard him," he added. "Stay low and tread as lightly as you can." He scampered down the hill and followed Strom through the deep, curving trench as he led them to the left of the clearing.

The Desert Vanguard followed relatively quietly. Due to some of the members' massive weight, they couldn't help but cause some vibrations in the ground with every step. Strom didn't think this would be a problem since the Dramon would probably assume it was the sound of their own marching.

Strom couldn't help but worry. Wars were never pretty. He could begin to understand why the Palaeozoic Sovereignty previously wanted to remain neutral. However, he knew that they had no choice but to fight. He just hoped that with his tactics and strength, he would be able to minimize the losses on his side and maximize the losses on the other.

He glanced at Ranney. There was one digimon there that he especially wanted to survive. Strom wondered if Ranney felt the same way about him or not.

After some speedy jogging, Strom scrambled up the dune once again. The ranks of the Slayer Legion were about halfway across the desert clearing by that time. He cursed. They didn't have much time.

At the position they were in, they were no longer directly in front of the Dramons' path, but were instead more diagonal to them, at a half-flank. The Spinomon now had a better view at the army and their formation. A Slayerdramon and Paildramon led the advance. He couldn't make out their faces, but he deduced their species from what he saw of them. There were a few thousand Dramon ranging from Champion to Mega levels. Just climbing over the crest, at the very back of the throng, were two Deckerdramon bringing up the rear.

"_Damnit... There's so many,_" Strom thought to himself. "_Our army is going to need to charge them hard and fast or else we're sitting targets for those Deckerdramon. King Aegyptu should approve of that,_" he mused with a roll of his eyes.

"_If we can ingrain ourselves with in the ranks of the Dramon, they wouldn't be able to bomb us without hitting their own troops. But the question is whether we can defeat them in an all out melee. We dinosaurs are strong, but Dramon are nothing to shake a stick at either._" He knew this from experience.

Strom started to skid back down towards his team. "Okay. Everyone start heading back to the others. I've-"

"Shut up!" Barik snapped, pushing Strom to the ground as he raced to the top of the dune. "Leave this to somebody who actually knows what they're doing!"

Strom's eyes widened and he tried to scramble to his feet. "Barik!"

"Don't!" Ranney chimed in, gasping.

But it was too late.

The aggressive Spinomon roared and sprinted down the hill towards the Slayer Legion, kicking up sand (and fear in the hearts of his comrades) in his wake.

"_Blue Prominence!_" Barik roared, opening his maw wide as he ran. The azure beam that tore from his throat pierced into the ranks of the ground troops, obliterating a Flamedramon and WarGrowlmon in an instant.

"Shi_t_!" Tartarus swore, diving out of the way in time to avoid being one of the casualties. "Hahah! Looks like we've got company!"

"Ambush!" Ishton called out to the troops.

Strom snarled and ran to the top of the dune, trying to stop his Spinomon comrade. "Idiot! Moron! Dumbass!" he chided, more to himself than Barik. "Everywhere I go, I'm surrounded by reckless idiots! How did that meathead get on this team? He's going to get us all killed, I know it! Damn it!"

"Strom, what do we do?" Ranney called up to him.

"We can't leave him!" a MetalGreymon implored.

The Spinomon snarled in absolute frustration and stress. "I know!" he snapped. "After the moron! Cover him! I'll drag him back by the tail if I have to!"

With that, Strom ran down the hill after Barik. He was soon followed by Ranney, who was soon followed by all the other members of Desert Vanguard, all roaring as they charged. It was a terrifying image to most all of the Dramon troops within the close vicinity. Not only did it help with the Desert Vanguard's shaky morale, it provided some daunting psychological warfare to their enemies.

"_Blue Prominence!_" Strom growled, racing down the slope.

"_Ogre Flame!_" Ranney chimed in, hot on his heels.

Strom's plasmatic beam raked through the sky, immersing three, four, five dragon digimon in burning hot power. In near synchronicity, Ranney's blast of spherical flames exploded on contact with a Groundramon, consuming the hapless digimon and any nearby Dramon in close proximity.

"Barik!" Strom shouted as the Dramon started to retaliate. "You numbskull! Pull back! Now! That's an order!"

The Spinomon growled and continued charging, ignoring his superior's behest. "I'm not listening to you! _Sonic Slash Rain!_" Barik fired the numerous blades jutting out of his back into the air, aiming for the hastily manoeuvring aerial ranks. The massive spines hacked into an unlucky Hisyarumon who couldn't get out of the way in time, turning the serpentine dragon into mincemeat and data.

Before Strom could further protest, Barik ploughed into the Dramon ranks, crushing a Magnamon under his foot and punting a Grademon all the way across the clearing, over the dune it came from.

The smaller Spinomon swore and continued chasing after the disobedient soldier, smashing through the Dramon ranks as well. He tried to bypass any dragon that wasn't getting in his way, but found it difficult. He picked up an overeager Sealsdramon in his claws and threw him skyward into a Coredramon.

"Surround them!" Ishton shouted, swinging his Fragarach sword down and hacking into the arm cannon of a MetalTyrannomon. He braced for a punch from the cyborg and skidded backwards.

Strom heard this and turned to the ZeekGreymon, who was bringing up the rear of the charge. "You! Raizer! Secure our escape route! Don't let them cut us off!"

"Sir," the gold-plated dinosaur snarled in affirmative response, raising his cannon and blasting a flanking Dramon out of the sky.

"MetalGreymons! Lay a barrage on the rear of the army before charging!" Strom added as he ran.

He ducked on instinct when missiles and lasers soared over his head and into the rear ranks of the Dramon. Sounds comparable to nearby thunderclaps boomed loudly as the projectiles hit their marks. Waves of heat from the explosions washed over the fighting digimon. Strom winced at the blast wave and whipped his tail at a charging Cyberdramon. "_We need to retreat or else we'll be overwhelmed in no time,_" he thought, watching the Dramon swarm towards him and his team. He snarled as a blast of energy slammed into his side and sent him off course slightly. Luckily for him, the attack was from a Champion level Dramon, so it didn't bother him much as he was a Mega. After knocking the Coredramon out of the sky with a swing of his claws, Strom continued chasing after Barik. "_But I can't leave this idiot to get killed. I can't afford to let my soldiers die either, though. Damnit. Maybe I should tell the others to retreat... but then me and Barik would be overwhelmed. We have to fight these guys anyways, might as well make it a bit easier for the main army, right?_"

Strom looked to the left. He saw the two WarGreymon ripping through the weaker Dramon ranks with their Dramon Killer gauntlets. Ahead of them was the BlackWarGreymon duelling with a Darkdramon. The Spinomon's heart froze momentarily when he watched the Darkdramon stab his Gigastic Lance into the BlackWarGreymon's leg, but felt relief when his Greymon comrade impaled the dragon on his Dramon Killers. It reminded him that they needed to get out of here. They wouldn't last.

His thoughts were cut short when a long, whip-like tail with a blade on the end of it lashed out and wrapped around Strom's neck, threatening to choke him. Growling, the Spinomon looked to the side and saw the purple, armoured form of an Arresterdramon flying beside him, doing his best to try to cut off his circulation.

Strom grunted, sapphire smoke drifting out of his nostrils. "_Blue Prominence!_" he shouted. The dinosaur flexed his neck, loosening the tail's constriction around his windpipe. With a claw, Strom grabbed the Arresterdramon's taut tail, holding him in place. Blue power then pulsed from his throat and engulfed the Arresterdramon in a steady stream that continued of behind him, even after the dragon was dissolved.

The beam caused many flying Dramon to disperse, though a few were taken off guard and either killed or wounded by the beam. Ishton adeptly swerved to the left of the blast to avoid it, but he could still feel the sheer heat against his armourless chest. "Damn Spinomons," he snarled, cleaving his segmented into the tough hide of a Triceramon X. He flew upwards, some of the dinosaur's data clinging onto his form as he ascended and spun around. "They have too much firepower. They need to be taken out quickly."

"_Tenryu Slash!_" Ishton shouted, hacking his blade down through a MasterTyrannomon who stood between him and the Spinomon that fired at him.

When the dinosaur's data dispersed, Ishton saw a Spinomon take a one of the blades off his back and swing his arm, using the blade like a massive sword. Blood coated the makeshift sword when Strom finished cutting through four Dramon with one swipe. When he took a good look at the Spinomon, Ishton's jaw fell.

"It can't be," he whispered, staring at him with a stunned expression.

"Ishton! _Cable Catcher!_" a voice shouted from nearby. Ishton spun around and saw one of the WarGreymon lunging at him, ready to run him through with his Dramon Killers. The Slayerdramon's eyes widened and he started to reel back and swing his sword, but he was too slow.

But five claw-tipped cables stabbed accurately into the WarGreymon's arm, leg and neck, stopping him in his tracks. "_Shoryu Slash!_" Ishton shouted, swinging the Fragarach instinctively. A draconic blast of energy surged the sword and blasted straight through the stunned WarGreymon, killing him instantly.

Tartarus retracted the lethal cords back into his gauntlet, shook a few drops of blood off and flew over, grinning. "Careful, careful, Ishton," he said, waggling his finger. "We can't have our leader getting killed due to being distracted."

"You're right. Thank you," Ishton said between heavy breaths. He looked around at the Slayer Legion. The dinosaurs were definitely holding their own against his dragons, at times, taking out five at a time. However, each time he looked, there was one less dinosaur out of what he estimated to be a hundred. It was only a matter of time.

"What's up?" Tartarus asked, looking around instinctively for his next target.

"That Spinomon," Ishton replied, staring at Strom, though his guard was definitely up after that near death experience. He saw the scars on Strom's chest and remembered the grizzly torture he watched the dinosaur go through. "_It's him... Strom._"

"Want me to take him out?" the Paildramon asked.

"No," the Slayerdramon answered, whipping his sword in front of him. "I'll take care of the Spinomon. You start taking out the others."

Tartarus smirked with bloodlust. "My pleasure."

The Paildramon flapped his wings, soaring into the air. He place his claws on his hip cannons, pointed them in different and opened fire. "_Desperado Blaster!_" he shouted. To his right, a MasterTyrannomon let out a roar of pain as he was riddled with energy bullets. To his left, a DinoRexmon let out a yelp and tripped as his legs were perforated by the bullets of the left cannon.

As the grey dinosaur collapsed and died, he turned to the maimed DinoTigermon and pointed his claws. "_Cable Catcher!_" Tartarus noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

He fired his index claw at the mammalian digimon, stabbing it through its chest and immediately swung towards the movement. A DinoRexmon was lunging at him, claws ready to gore. The Paildramon fired his other four cables, piercing the dinosaur's body. "_Spiking Strike!_" Tartarus followed up, stabbing a metal spear that extended from his wrist into the DinoRexmon's body for good measure.

Tartarus then turned his head and extended his unused right arm, spreading his fingers precariously. "Hah. _Cable Catcher!_" Five more wire-guided claws sprang out from his gauntlets and soared, spreading off in three different directions.

Two wires stabbed into a Triceramon X's neck, angled so that it went behind the armoured frill. Another wire impaled the leg of a MetalTyrannomon, cutting into some of his circuits. The last two wrapped around the wrists of the BlackWarGreymon and wrenched his arms to the side before he could deliver the fatal blow to an Imperialdramon Fighter Mode.

The five wires on Tartarus' left hand snapped back into place now that they had killed their targets. He grinned and looked at the targets to his right. "Heh. Oh yeah; this is definitely fun," he chuckled.

Strom stopped what he was doing, gaping at the incredibly skilled feat. The massive blade in his claws lowered as he watched Tartarus shoot down another Desert Vanguard member using his cords and beam bullets. "That digimon... He's an ace," he whispered in fear for his comrades.

The Paildramon laughed as another dinosaur digimon fell before him. "Yes! This is the power of a proto super soldier!" he cackled.

"Who gives a flying care?" a voice shouted from behind the proto super soldier.

Just as Tartarus swung around to meet him, Ranney had already lunged and tackled straight out of the air. With a growly gasp, Tartarus slammed into the sand with the weight of a fifteen foot dinosaur on top of him. The Paildramon winced and felt immense pressure on his arms. "Bastard..." he hissed, glaring up at the DinoRexmon standing over him.

"Sticks and stones," Ranney said, pressing down hard on his arms, not allowing him to use any of his stabbing weaponry. "Will break my bones..." He lowered his snout towards Tartarus, opening his maw wide and revealing plenty of jagged teeth. The Paildramon wrenched one of his arms free in order to try to push Ranney's snout back from trying to bite him.

The DinoRexmon's grinning mouth leaked out waves of heat as he readied to attack him at point blank range. "_Ogre Flame!_"

"_Desperado Blaster!_" Tartarus retaliated. His hip-cannons pounded Ranney's toughly-scaled chest and sent him reeling back just as he fired his attack. The blast impacted right above Tartarus' head and exploded, sending the Paildramon skidding across the ground.

Ranney grit his teeth and looked around, attempting to get his bearings and find his foe. He looked in the direction he thought Tartarus flew, but he wasn't there. He turned around again and saw the Paildramon diving at him from the sky, the spikes on his gauntlets fully extended and poised to kill.

"_Plasma Railgun!_" a deep voice snarled from the distance.

A beam ripped through the sky and slammed into Tartarus, sending him flying into an AeroVeedramon. Ranney looked over to his right at the base of the dune and saw the ZeekGreymon lower his cannon arm. "Thanks, Raizer!" he called out with a grin.

"We need to retreat," the ZeekGreymon snarled. "We won't hold out much longer. Tell Strom to get back here."

Tartarus, whose body was smoking from the blast, growled and stood up, facing Raizer. "I don't care how much armour you have; I can still kick your big, gold *ss," he hissed. "_Cable Catcher! Desperado Blaster!_"

The Paildramon fired and could only watch as his claws and beam bullets simply bounced off the ZeekGreymon's gold digizoid hide. He grinned and swore as Raizer raised his cannon at him smugly.

"Looks like I'm not equipped to fight with him," Tartarus muttered, flying behind Ranney to avoid being shot at.

Ranney swung around but Tartarus had disappeared into the battlefield. The DinoRexmon glanced behind him at his ZeekGreymon comrade. "Hurry, Ranney!" the Field Officer of equal rank told him. "Go find Strom!"

"Got it!" he answered, racing off and goring some Dramon on his toe claws on the way.

* * *

><p>Drykar silently watched the battle from the rear, waiting on top of the dune as the elite team of dinosaurs clashed against their horde. He knew that in this case, quantity would victor over quality, though that wasn't to say their own soldiers weren't skilled themselves. The Desert Vanguard just wouldn't be able to last against the odds they faced.<p>

Beside him sat the only other Deckerdramon among them, Argo. The younger crocodile looked restless, wanting to get into the action as well. "Can't we attack, sir?" he asked Drykar.

"No," Drykar responded simply. "...Not like this."

The Deckerdramon's eyes narrowed when he saw Tartarus fly over to them, glaring. The Paildramon's claws dripped with blood, the same colour as his fierce eyes. "What the hell are you two doing sitting around back here?" he demanded. "Attack! Blow them all to hell! Starting with the ZeekGreymon!"

"One, I don't take orders from the likes of you," Drykar replied icily. "Before Ishton found you, you were nothing but an ace foot soldier. You're a proto super soldier who lives only to kill; you have no concept of the bigger picture in battles. Two, we Deckerdramon specialize in support. If Argo and I were to fire, we would kill more of our own troops than we would the enemy and we can't very well go into the battle without running our Dramon over. The dinosaurs are too thinly spread out amongst all the others."

The Deckerdramon continued staring at Tartarus' darkening face. "If it's what you really want, we'll fire, Tartarus, but you'll have to be the one that explains to Ishton why twenty five percent of the Slayer Legion has been killed by friendly fire."

Tartarus growled and spat dismissively. "Whatever. _You'd_better watch that big *ss of yours for friendly fire, croc," he warned, turning to fly back into the fray.

Drykar glared at him. "As should you..."

* * *

><p>Strom growled in pain as he was bombarded by blows from both attacks and weapons. The ones that hit his protected back were bearable, but some of the ones that hit his flanks really did some damage. A Wingdramon slammed into Strom's side, digging the tip of his dorsal horn into his arm. The Spinomon was knocked onto the ground, landing on his side. Strom stifled a cry and ejected the row of blades from his back, hacking into any dragon that tried to swarm him from behind.<p>

Despite the pain, he glared at the blue dragon. Strom lashed out, wrapping his claws around the Wingdramon's neck and pulling roughly, fracturing the dragon's neck in several places. The orange dinosaur swung his hand out to try to put distance between himself and any attackers as he stood to his feet. To make matters worse, his head still pounded from the hangover.

Strom looked ahead of him and saw Barik, not far from him, biting an unlucky dragon in two. "_That selfish bastard,_" the smaller Spinomon bristled. "_Every death in this pointless skirmish is his fault. It's all because he's too proud to take orders from me. It's that stupid grudge. I'll kill him for this._"

The dinosaur ducked his head and bolted forward, methodically running as though he were in pursuit of prey. He stormed through the Dramon ranks, but found himself bashed aside by an Imperialdramon Dragon Mode, who managed to avoid the massive spike jutting out of Strom's shoulder. Strom growled in annoyance and quickly reached over his shoulder to grab one of his blades. "I don't have time for you, lardo!" he snapped clobbering the Dramon over the head with the blunt end of the blade. It was only enough to stun him, but it gave Strom enough time to run over to Barik and put a firm claw on his shoulder.

Barik turned around, ready to attack him, but stopped upon seeing it was Strom.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Strom demanded. "We have to fall back!"

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Barik spat, growling as he ripped his claws through a MegaSeadramon's scales.

Strom snarled balefully and grabbed Barik by the throat. A part of him wanted to do to him what he did to the Wingdramon. He ignored Barik's frantic grip on his wrists as he squeezed around his throat. "That's right, it's _all_ about you. It's always about Barik! Well, do you know what else? This time, it is! Our friends and comrades are _dying_ because you just _have_ to undermine me at every chance you get! You're nothing but a petty bully who can't let go of the past! And do you know what? Their deaths are on _you_!" he roared.

It was when he saw the internal pain in Barik's eyes that Strom realized that some of those words could be used to accurately describe himself a few weeks ago. When he thought about how he treated Ragna - no, not just Ragna, but Ranney as well – he knew that he had been that same petty bully who couldn't let go of what he went through.

Barik snarled and pushed him back violently, turning around, getting on all fours and using a _Sonic Slash Rain_on an aerial group of Dramon who were starting to fire their attacks at them. "Leave me alone!"

Strom used a _Blue Prominence_attack to suppress the Dramons throwing ranged attacks at them from behind. "No! You're coming with me! I don't care if I have to drag you back! I'm not letting anybody else die for your selfishness!" he snapped.

"Then take everybody and leave me!" Barik shouted in reply.

The Spinomon officer slammed his foot down in frustration. "Yeah, you really want to die, do you? You want to be the hero and leave me to be the coward. Get one last thing over on Strom before your data is deleted," he said in a mocking fashion. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"I don't need your help!" he insisted.

Strom rolled his eyes, but his anger didn't subside. "Why are you doing this?"

Barik wrenched his head around glaring his blue eyes into Strom's. "You're not the only one without parents, you know!" he yelled at him. "You get taken in by Aegyptu and become like his pet! Not too shabby, was it? What about digimon like me who had to grow up on their own while something like you gets treated like a prince? What makes you so special?"

"What?" Strom asked, stunned. "Prince? I was never treated like that! I had to work just like anybody else. If anything, Aegyptu treats me harder because of our history! Unlike you, I never even had friends as a kid, so before you run off and have a petty tantrum, actually look around yourself!"

Barik stood up and turned to face him, sneering. "What are you talking about?"

"Forget it and jus- look out!" Strom suddenly exclaimed. An opportunistic Gallantmon leapt out from behind Barik with his Gram Lance at the ready. The dragon knight dove at the distracted Spinomon, aiming at the relatively unprotected nape of Barik's neck.

"Die, reptiles! _Lightning Joust!_" he shouted, driving his lance forward viciously.

Strom lunged forward and grabbed Barik by the face, his claws digging into his snout at the sheer abruptness of the grab. He yanked the Spinomon's head down and opened his maw at the descending Gallantmon, Strom's body being superheated all the while.

Power ripped out of the Gallantmon's lance, missing its initial target but searing only the side of Strom's cheek and neck, but successfully slamming into the Spinomon's spike-littered shoulder. Strom did his best not to recoil as power shot up through his throat. "_Blue Prominence!_" he yelled in retaliation.

A beam the size of the Gallantmon's body coursed from Strom's mouth and slammed into the knight at point blank range. He held against the burning hot plasma for several seconds, struggling to lift up the Aegis shield to block against the heat and pressure. However, he couldn't hold it up and his plate armour finally gave way and cracked. The _Blue Prominence_obliterated the dragon knight and left only red hot shards of armour and the shield in its azure wake.

Barik stumbled forwards but used his tail to balance himself. He spun around and looked at Strom with shock. His reluctant saviour panted and turned around to face him. Two trickles of blood dripped down Strom's arm from the base of his spikes where the Gallantmon had successfully struck him. "You..." he said, stunned that Strom would save him. Stunned that he _did _save him.

"Please, don't gush. It's embarrassing," Strom muttered sarcastically through pain-clenched teeth. "We need to fall back. Okay?"

Barik grimaced. "...Affirmative," he replied in a defeated tone, finally conceding.

Strom sighed in relief and turned. He looked over that battlefield. There weren't as many Dramon between them and the rest of the Desert Vanguard as there were, but there weren't as many of the Desert Vanguard, either. They had to retreat fast. "Let's go!" he said.

The two Spinomon raced towards the dune that they came from, where the rest of their team was regrouping around. Barik, having stronger legs than Strom, overtook him and led the retreat back to their line of defence. Strom tried his best to catch up.

"Not so fast, Strom!" a voice shouted from above. The cobalt form of Ishton dropped from the sunny sky, getting between Strom and Barik.

Strom skidded to a stop on instinct upon seeing the Slayerdramon's Fragarach drawn and ready. "What the-" Upon taking a good look at him, the Spinomon recognized him immediately. He couldn't believe his eyes...

"You? Ishton?" he demanded, gazing at the Slayerdramon, stunned to see him again and in a place like this.

He remembered him clearly. Back on the day that Ranney gave him up to the Dramon, they had come across Ishton, who was secretly keeping an eye on them as Ranney led Strom to the Dramon Empire. He posed as a resistance fighter and Strom had drunk in his lie like water, eventually leading to Strom's capture. Ishton was one of the main reasons why Strom felt so much hatred towards traitors.

Strom scowled.

"I knew it was you," Ishton spoke, raising his Fragarach. "It's nice to see you survived your wounds. They've healed into scars quite well too."

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, teeth bared and claws poised.

"Something I know you can emphasize with, _Avenger_," Ishton replied steely. "I'm taking my revenge."

Barik, seeing Strom's plight, acted. The Spinomon got down on all fours and angled his back, firing blade after blade at the Slayerdramon. Ishton swung around and whipped the Fragarach. With a turn of the wrist he parried the blade. He then parried the next and the next and each one after with expert swordplay. Twelve blades collected in the sand and Ishton stood untouched.

The large Spinomon sneered. This was no ordinary Dramon. "Let's see if you can block this! _Blue Prominence!_"

Ishton dove forward, the blue blast of plasma slamming into where he stood, turning the sand into a concave bowl of irregular glass. The Slayerdramon landed in a roll and sprung back to his feet, the smouldering attack still continuing just over his head. He felt the heat blacken the tips of his horns, but that didn't stop him.

Running at the digimon three times as tall as him, the dragon knight jumped and swung his sword.

"_Tenryu Slash!_"

The fragmented blade hacked through Barik's tough scales as the glowing metal ran down through his body. The Fragarach cut down the length of the Spinomon's chest, digging into Barik deeply before exiting him.

Barik snarled in blinding pain as the sword finally left his chest. Blood emerged and dripped down his scales like a crimson brook. He clutched the grizzly wound with his left claw and glared at the dragon hatefully.

"Barik!" Strom shouted, running over to him.

"Leave, Strom!" Barik growled, his voice weak and barely audible over his strained snarl. The larger Spinomon lashed out, grabbing Ishton's head in his free claws, squeezing with all the strength he could muster.

Strom grabbed one of his blades from off of his back, wielding it like a sword. "Like I'm really going to-"

"GO!" the wounded dinosaur shouted, crushing Ishton harder.

The Slayerdramon whipped his blade against Barik's chest. "_Shoryu Slash,_" Ishton thought, unable to speak.

A crushing beam in the shape of a dragon ripped from the blade of the sword and burned into Barik's chest. The power roared as if it were a dragon. The beam cleaved through Barik's scales, burning data away and surging deep into his chest.

The searing blue dragon, burst out of the Spinomon's bladed and spiked back, leaving a data-cascaded rent in its fatal wake. Barik's digicore disintegrated by the pressure and his body burst into millions of microscopic pieces of data.

Strom watched in horror as the data scattered in a blast of wind. Ishton landed on the ground and lowered his blade, turning around to face Strom.

"You..." the remaining Spinomon breathed. His dwindling grip around his blade tightened abruptly. A ferocious snarl rumbled from Strom's throat as he glared at the Slayerdramon with what could only be described as hate. "DIE!"

The dinosaur stampeded towards Ishton, dragging his blade straight through an ExVeemon who tried to intercept him as he charged.

"Strom..." Ishton growled. He started running towards him as well.

Strom swung his arm down, the massive makeshift sword descending like the blade of a guillotine. His draconic opponent raised the Fragarach to block, but as soon as Strom's blade clashed with it, Ishton felt his elbow buckle. The dragon's right arm snapped back towards him and the inside blade of the Fragarach dug into his armourless shoulder.

The sheer power of Strom was enough to send Ishton hard into his back. Ishton roared in pain as his own sword cut into him but he was fortunate enough for Strom's blade to deflect off the curved Fragarach and dig into the ground beside him.

"_Shoryu Slash!_" Ishton shouted, unleashing another draconic beam from the Fragarach, this one directed for Strom.

Strom tensed up in shock, but acted on his instincts. "_Blue Prominence!_" he countered.

Two cobalt blasts collided and burst apart and deflected, blue tendrils of power shooting in different directions like a massive firework with Strom and Ishton at its epicentre. The offshoots burned at both of their scales but they both managed to avoid any severe damage from one another.

The azure explosion was like a gleaming flare in the desert. Strom could no longer see Ishton in that moment, so he slashed his metal blade through the sand where Ishton was. The black spots in his vision faded with the blasts' light and revealed Ishton to be gone. Strom growled and looked around, but he couldn't find the Slayerdramon, who had relocated to do away with the disadvantage he had in that moment against the Spinomon.

"Strom!" a familiar voice called out from the direction of the sixty-some remaining members of the Desert Vanguard, who were backing towards the edge of the clearing at the base of the dune that Raizer the ZeekGreymon was holding.

The battlefield was now clearly divided. The Dramon on the frontlines had pulled back to regroup with the other Dramon in order to organize themselves. The Desert Vanguard had done the same, but fore decidedly more defensive purposes. Strom was somewhere in the clearing between them.

The Dramon were beginning to advance again, this time to deliver the final blow.

The Spinomon turned and saw Ranney running up to him. "Strom!" the DinoRexmon said again, his lungs out of breath and his body riddled with cuts.

"R-Ranney," Strom panted. The Spinomon turned around and saw the Slayer Legion closing in on them."

"Where's Barik?" Ranney asked, looking around anxiously.

"He's dead," the Spinomon growled miserably. His eyes narrowed and he looked over his shoulder, trying to spot Ishton again.

"No..." Ranney whispered, bowing his head in sorrow as the news hit him. The DinoRexmon had never been incredibly close to Barik, but he had still fought with him in battle and shared certain camaraderie with him. He was his subordinate and he valued each of them, no matter what their personalities.

Ranney grimaced but gave a brave yet solemn nod. "I... understand..." he replied.

Strom closed his eyes. He knew he had to do this. There were far too many of them and the Desert Vanguard was dwindling. He had lost far too many already. He wasn't about to lose anymore. He wasn't about to lose him.

"Ranney..." Strom said austerely. "...Retreat. Take the others and retreat. Now."

The green dinosaur raised his head in surprise. "Woah. Wait a second! What about you?" he demanded, taking Strom's words to mean that the Spinomon would be staying behind.

The orange Avenger opened his eyes and stared into Ranney's earnestly. "Somebody needs to hold them back," he explained dourly. "If anybody should do it, it's me. I can't think of anybody more suiting."

"Are you nuts? There's no way I'm letting you sacrifice yourself, you moron!" Ranney protested passionately. He stepped forward and glared at Strom. "We can all escape if we run right now!"

"And lead them back to Gapsar's battalion?" Strom asked dismissively. "No. We need strategy and formations to beat them. We can't lead them back. Besides, they'll overtake us."

Ranney snarled and stomped up to him so that they were face to face, showing Strom what his true feeling were. "I'm not leaving you here to die!" the DinoRexmon snapped.

"Just like you didn't before, right?" Strom countered, his voice bitingly sarcastic.

Ranney stared at him, hurt, but still defiant. "I don't care if you hate me," Ranney replied, his voice quieter. The DinoRexmon bowed his head and saw the Dramon growing nearer. "I still won't leave you."

Strom growled. A maelstrom of feelings circulated inside him. He was furious and frustrated that Ranney wouldn't leave. The pain of Barik's death still lingered and the pressure added by the advancing army added to his worries. Part of him wanted Ranney to be selfish and leave him to retreat. Despite all this, he still felt touched at Ranney's words. They filled him with a sense of hope.

That's why he grabbed Ranney by the throat and lifted him up to his eye level. "Listen to me! I don't want anybody else I care about to die! I don't want _you_ to die, get it? You say you're my friend and you want me to be okay. Well, great! I want the same for you, so _that's_why you're going to take your ugly self and the others back to meet up with Gapsar's team and the main army! Then all of you can come to rescue this brainless dinosaur after figuring out a strategy!" he ordered, glaring into Ranney's surprised eyes.

With a strong toss, Strom threw Ranney into the sand in the direction of the rest of the Desert Vanguard. The Spinomon turned his back to him and looked towards the approaching army.

"Go," Strom said softly. "Please, Rann..."

Ranney looked up at him with pained eyes, but slowly nodded. "...I'm coming back for you, Strom," he promised him. He narrowed his gaze at him. "If you die..."

Strom smiled a bit. "I'm too stubborn to die to a bunch of Dramon. I've made it out before, haven't I?"

His smaller friend returned the slight smile. "...Good."

Without another word, Ranney scrambled to his feet and ran back towards his comrades with the order to retreat.

Strom watched Ranney retreated, watching him with softened eyes. "_I'll try my best not to die, Rann..._"

He exhaled softly and stared at the advancing legion. He got down on all fours. "Me against the world," he breathed, his heart pumping rapidly. "Just like old times."

He glared at the draconic invaders and opened his maw wide. "_Blue Prominence!_" he roared.

The last thing that Ranney saw before disappearing over the crest of the dune with the others was Strom's burning beam of plasma rip through a section of Dramon, burning them to ashes in the sheer heat.

"_This time I won't leave you. I'm coming back,_" Ranney thought sadly. With the others, he ran down in the direction of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's army, who were still a good deal of the ways off.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Strom angled his back, both to aim and to protect his underbelly from countless attacks of all varieties heading his way. He stifled a pain growl as beams and blasts cut into his arms and neck. Drops of blood rained down and stained the golden sand.<p>

"_Sonic Slash Rain!_"

An endless salvo of blades ripped continuously from Strom's spine, the massive shards of metal that made up his sail constantly and immediately growing back in the place of an expelled one. The blades ripped through the Dramons' ranks, cutting several dragons on both the land and air to pieces.

"_I just need to keep up the suppression,_" Strom thought to himself, ignoring a trickle of blood dripping off his brow and dribbling down around his eye and cheek. "_The ugly bastards won't be able to get near me and it'll give the others time to get away._"

Ishton growled and flew high into the air. "Spread out!" he ordered. "You're all packed too close! Get around him and flank him!"

An AeroVeedramon, Groundramon and DORUGreymon all ran to Strom's left as he continued his desperate barrage.

"_V-Wing Blade!_"

"_Metal Meteor!_"

"_Giga Crack!_"

Two attacks hammered Strom's side, eliciting a sharp cry of pain. As he was pushed to the side by the force, the sand suddenly shifted beneath him, swallowing his left arm and leg, forcing him to collapse to his side. The dinosaur snarled and pointed his face towards the three, still firing his attack defensively even though he was aiming blindly into the air.

"_Blue Prominence!_" Strom countered, unleashing powerful sapphire flames on the three and obliterating them.

"_Not gonna last..._" he thought, digging his claws out of the sand and standing upright. "_If I'm going to die, I'd might as well make it memorable._"

He reached both arms over his shoulder and pulled out two more giant blades from his back. Strom did his best to try and stare down the throng, but it wasn't working. A Gigadramon landed two successful hits upon the Spinomon, causing two explosions to erupt, one on Strom's chest and the other on his shin.

The dinosaur growled in pain and collapsed to a knee. On shaky legs, he stood back up. He gave a roar of defiance and swung his left arm, cleaving the Gigadramon straight down the middle. Strom then threw the blade in his right arm, splattering a Sealsdramon under the weapon's great weight and proceeded to draw another from his back in time to parry a striking Darkdramon.

Ishton watched in dismay at the Spinomon who fought so desperately and defiantly against them. The Slayerdramon growled in frustration. He couldn't afford to lose anymore Dramon to him. He turned his head and looked around. "Tartarus!" he called out.

The Paildramon was calmly watching Strom dispatch his comrades from the air. He seemed to enjoy the show. "What's up, Ishton?" he asked, responding with a wave.

"What are you waiting for? Take him down!" Ishton snapped.

Tartarus saluted and smirked. "Yes sir!" he replied, swooping down towards the Spinomon.

The Paildramon aimed his hands at Strom, taking advantage of the Darkdramon serving as a distraction for him. "This should do the trick," he muttered. "Nobody get close to him or you'll screw it up! _Cable Catcher!_"

Five claw-tipped cables ejected from Tartarus' left hand. The five digits pierced into Strom's right ankle, digging in deep and causing a long trickle of blood to seep from the wounds. The claws remained firm in the Spinomon's leg as Tartarus started flying around Strom, looping around his several times, feeding more cable from his hands as he did.

Strom looked down is surprise as he felt his ankle be pulled together as cables tangled up his feet. The Spinomon raised one arm to hack through the Paildramon's cable with his blade, but the Darkdramon stabbed his lance into Strom's arm, causing him to drop the weapon.

"D-Damn you..." he said through gritted teeth, raising his other sword to try and chop the wires ensnaring his legs.

"I don't think so! _Desperado Blaster!_" Tartarus shouted. His voice was soon drowned out by the pattering of his hip cannons which sent beam bullets into Strom's other arm, forcing the dinosaur to drop the other weapon. The Paildramon then pulled the wires taut, sending the dinosaur off balance and forcing him to collapse to his stomach.

Strom growled in weary annoyance and tried to pull himself up, but he couldn't stand with the legs the way they were. "S-_Sonic Slash Rain._"

In a desperate last stand, Strom let off another volley of blades directly upwards as it was all he could do from his position. The Darkdramon had been unlucky enough to be standing directly above him as that happened. The dragon let out a roar of pain as he fell, finding himself suddenly wingless.

Tartarus landed in front of Strom and drove his foot across the reptile's face, distracting him enough to cause the attack to cease."That's about enough out of you," Tartarus spat. Two spikes began extending from his wrists.

"Strom!" a voice called out from the distance.

The beaten Spinomon looked up into the sky and saw a violet comet shooting through the bright sky towards them. He recognized the digimon who called out to him.

"...S-Sarki?" he asked weakly.

Tartarus turned around as well to gaze up at the Pteramon soaring in their direction. The Paildramon raised an eyebrow with interest and walked a few paces towards their unexpected guest. Sarki grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes, swooping down towards Strom and Tartarus.

"Go... back..." Strom pleaded weakly, far too softly for his friend to hear him.

"Don't you dare touch him, you piece of Dramon trash!" Sarki shouted, accelerating with resolve and determination. The twelve missiles under his wings unlocked and ignited, shooting steam behind him. "_Side Winder!_" All of the missiles zoomed forwards ahead of the Pteramon

Tartarus' red eyes widened as the twelve missiles all rocketed towards him at once, hissing exhaust as they soared. "What the-?"

The missiles descended on and around the Paildramon, swallowing him up in twelve fiery explosions. A hellish scream was drowned out by the thunderous blasts as Tartarus was enveloped in flames and shrapnel. Strom winced as the blast sent heat and sand washing over him. However impressive the blast, the cables binding his feet still led tightly into the epicentre of the explosions.

Sarki continued flying towards Strom as he was confident with his successful barrage. He was sure his target had died. All that stood between him and Strom were several craters and a cloud of smoke.

However, out from the smoke and flames staggered Tartarus. His exposed chest and left arm were riddled with shrapnel cuts. His red helmet was fractured deeply and underneath the cracked metal seeped a steady stream of blood that dripped from under the mask and down his neck. The Paildramon's demonic red eyes glared up at his attacker with fury and hatred.

The Pteramon's eyes widened in shock. Tartarus spat a mouthful of blood and raised the index finger on his right hand and pointed it at Sarki.

"_Cable Catcher!_"

Tartarus' claw launched from his gauntlet, propelling through the air towards Sarki. The two were going at such speeds that neither could hope to avoid each other.

With horrified gold eyes, Strom watched the wire-led claw pierced through the Pteramon's chest and exited out of his back. Sarki gasped, stopping in mid flight as the wire perforated his armour and impaled him.

"Nobody gets in my way," Tartarus hissed, retracting his bloody claw from Sarki until it snapped back into its place in his gauntlet.

Sarki let out a pained breath and faltered in his flight, dropping from the sky towards the sand below.

"SARKI!" Strom yelled in pain and fear. With a mighty swing of his arm, Strom sent Tartarus flying across the sand. The Paildramon's shoulder dislocated sickeningly when his left arm snapped back, due to the cables still binding the Spinomon's feet.

Despite the fact that he couldn't walk, Strom dragged himself across the sand with his arms towards Sarki. Grunting with pain, worry and effort, the determined dinosaur made it to the Pteramon, who lay in the sand. Blood poured out of Sarki's wounds onto the warm sand below.

"No," he breathed shakily, gently taking Sarki in his claws. Strom stared down at the dreadful state that the blue pteranodon was in. Seeing him in his wounded state was enough to bring tears to Strom's eyes. All he could remember was seeing Rai, Karasu, Valra and Ragna die all over again. Now it was happening to another one of his friends.

"Strom..." Sarki whispered, looking up at him. "I... tried..."

Particles of data began flying off of Sarki's body. Strom grimaced in stabbing inner agony and was forced to bow his head, not wanting to show him the tears forming in his eyes. "It doesn't matter," he told him sorrowfully. "You and me are going to get out of here."

The Pteramon chuckled breathily. "No..." he replied, seeing through his lie. He knew he wouldn't last much longer. Sarki grimaced in pain and craned his neck, bringing his beak as close as he could to Strom's ear. With a pained whisper, he spoke. "Strom..."

"Wh... What?" Strom asked, holding back his tears, feeling helpless as the friend he bonded with over the past few weeks was slowly slipping away from him. This had happened because Sarki tried to save him. The guilt and pain wrecked Strom, weighing him down more than his wounds already did.

A small smile formed in the corners of Sarki's beak. "I saw the sandstorm coming... I told them... to attack when it hit..." he explained, looking up at the Spinomon. "You... wanted that... right?"

A tear slipped by Strom and fell to the ground.

"Y...Yeah," Strom answered, opening his tear soaked eyes to reveal emerald irises in the place of his gold ones. Sarki's blood dripped onto Strom's scarred hand. The hand burned with a stabbing pain, but Strom ignored it. The only thing he could focus on was the mortally wounded Pteramon. "You shouldn't have saved me..." he spoke, his voice choked and trembling.

Sarki smiled at him softly.

"I'd do it again..." he gently replied.

His eyes closed and his body fragmented in a cloud of data.

Strom's heart sunk like a boulder. His moist eyes widened for a moment before shutting them tightly. He grit his teeth and bowed his head, digging his claws deep into the blood soaked sand. Tears streamed down his bloody snout and met around his nostrils. More than anything, Strom wanted to collapse there and break down. He wanted to hide away from the grim reality that faced him.

"What a shame," Tartarus' taunting voice said from nearby, pulling Strom back into the situation around him.

Strom whirled his head around, and glared his feral green eyes at the proto super soldier. Tartarus gripped his arm tightly and pushed it upwards, snapping his shoulder back into place with a sickening 'thwick'. The Paildramon then glared at him and approached.

The rage that Strom felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His left hand still throbbed; it was as if his scars were pulsating. He saw his target and acted. With a primal, savage roar of hatred, the Spinomon opened his mouth wide. "_BLUE PROMINENCE!_"

Tartarus leapt up into the air and flapped his wings. "_Cable Catcher!_"

Before Strom could fire at him, the proto super soldier lowered his free arm and shot three claws at his opponent. The tips of the claws pierced into the bridge of Strom's snout, but due to his tough hide, didn't go very deep.

Tartarus grinned and, with a few rotations of his arm, snapped Strom's snout shut with binding cables, forcing the dinosaur's attack to be routed and any further _Blue Prominences_disabled. The Paildramon tugged tightly and sent the Spinomon crashing down once again. He walked over to the felled dinosaur with his spikes at the ready.

"Time to finally finish you off," Tartarus spoke, grinning widely.

"Wait!" Ishton said, landing in front of Strom's face.

"What? You want to do the honours?" the proto super soldier complained. "But I did all the work!"

"No," the Slayerdramon said, staring down at Strom, who panted heavily in anger and exhaustion. He saw the Spinomon's green eyes glaring back at him with the same feelings that Ishton himself had felt at one time or another. "I want him alive. We may be able to use him."

"Use him for _what_?" Tartarus asked incredulously. "We're fighting a war of extermination here."

Ishton grinned and placed a foot on Strom's tangled snout. "I don't expect you'd understand, Tartarus; you're just a proto super soldier. There's several things we can use him for, isn't there, Avenger Strom?" he asked. "For one, we can use him as a hostage to bide time until the cavalry arrive. They wouldn't dare let themselves be the cause of an Avenger's death."

Strom gave a throaty growl of defiance but found himself silenced when Ishton's metal boot slammed into his skull, painfully knocking him into unconsciousness.

Ishton exhaled and looked at his Dramon. "You all fought well. Fall back to our base of operations. We need to rest and regroup. Hopefully the army will find us before the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's does." Ishton looked at Strom, who was covered in wounds and bruises. He frowned and gazed upon the digimon he met not far from this very place. "Get Argo to carry the dinosaur... If nothing else, we managed to get ourselves an Avenger."


	9. Part 9: A Happy Life

(Author's Note: WARNING. This chapter is just over three posts long. I encourage anybody reading [all three of you] to get some food ahead of time and take as many breaks as needed. I had no idea it would be this long. I've definately broken a personal record. I hope it will be enjoyable despite its length.)

**_Chapter 10: A Happy Life_**

The Fragarach collided with the sturdy, emerald scales on Ranney's back, shooting a cascade of sparks as the gold blades ricocheted off. Ranney ran to the side and turned his head towards Ishton, opening his mouth wide and releasing an _Ogre Flame_towards the Slayerdramon.

Ishton snarled and flew upwards, still recovering from the swing of his sword and thus unable to parry the attack. The burning half-liquid shell exploded on Ishton's armoured legs, heating up the already hot metal as the magma parted around it. He let out a grunt of pain and swiped the Fragarach down, grazing Ranney's bloodied arm.

The DinoRexmon cringed but dashed forwards. He opened his mouth, showing off his rows of jagged teeth, before biting down on Ishton's right arm, digging the teeth into his scales. Ishton cried out in pain, nearly dropping the sword from his hand. He really regretted ignoring Drykar's advice to wear armour on his upper body now.

With a snarl, Ishton drove his free fist repeatedly into Ranney's face, pounding his snout, cheek and forehead. The DinoRexmon tried to withstand the beating and build fire up in his mouth in order to completely burn off Ishton's arm, but he was finding it increasingly difficult with each punch that landed. He built the magma and fire up in his mouth and Ishton started to feel it against his scales. Ishton knew that he had to act quickly.

He ceased punching Ranney and took the Fragarach in his left hand. "_Shoryu Slash!_"

Azure power exploded around Ranney, burning his scales and knocking him flat on his back. He kicked his feet around wildly, slashing with his toe claws as he struggled to his feet. Ishton let out a yell as one of the claws ripped across his bicep. Ranney got to his feet and then kicked Ishton in the gut with the blunt top of one of his toe claws.

The Slayerdramon landed on his back but used the momentum to do a backwards somersault and get back onto his feet. Ranney launched an _Ogre Flame_at the dragon, but Ishton jumped back and allowed it to explode in front of him, kicking up sand and fire into the air. He then slashed the Fragarach behind him, cutting down a MetalTyrannomon who was trying to sneak up on him.

Ranney growled, glaring at him when his attack cleared. "I'm going to kill you, Fish-tin. _Splatter Hunting!_"

"So do it!" Ishton challenged, wielding the Fragarach in two hands.

The DinoRexmon accepted the challenge and charged, ripping across the desert with daunting speed for a fifteen foot dinosaur. Ishton swept his sectioned sword out horizontally. Ranney, expecting this, jumped over the blade. However, Ishton kept spinning, using the momentum to swing around for a second try. On the second pass, he raised the sword higher and the blade wrapped around Ranney's claw and ankle. "_Koryu Slash!_"

Ishton yanked the Fragarach and the sword tightened around Ranney's leg painfully, sending the DinoRexmon crashing to the ground. He retracted the Fragarach, locked the sabre into place and charged at the temporarily downed dinosaur.

"Damnit!" Ranney sputtered, trying to get to his feet again so that he might be able to defend himself. "_Ogre Flame!_"

Again, he sent concentrated magma from his maw towards ishton. The Slayerdramon flew into the air to avoid it and continued his charge. Ranney grit his teeth and planted his feet firmly against the ground. With that, he used his highly developed legs to lunge himself into the air, recklessly charging Ishton. As the Slayerdramon brought the sword down, Ranney rammed his hard skull into Ishton. The Fragarach cut against the top oh his head, but Ishton was sent flying through the air, slamming into an ExVeemon with enough force to knock the both of them out of the sky.

Ishton fell to the ground and panted, pained and tired. "_How long now?_" he wondered. The Slayerdramon pulled the stunned ExVeemon to his feet and started walking back towards Ranney.

A trickle of blood dripped down Ranney's face from the sword wound, curving around the side of his snout. It was a superficial wound, luckily for him. "You guys aren't going to win here, you know," Ranney told him, narrowing his eyes. "Even if, by some miracle, you do win this battle, the rest of the Avengers and the united rebels will come."

Ishton chuckled. "And you're under the impression that we're the only ones you'll have to fight against..." he responded.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Ranney demanded snappily.

"You'll see, Ranney..." Ishton assured him, smiling with confidence. The blue dragon looked towards the west sky and his golden eyes rested on the horizon, where the sky met the static wave of sand. His smile grew exponentially, exposing his razor sharp teeth. Unable to contain his glee, he shouted, "YES!"

"Wha?" the predatory lizard asked, tilting his head in confusion. Though his instincts told him not to take his eyes off of his opponent, he had to know what Ishton was looking at. While still keeping the Slayerdramon in his field of view, he craned his neck slightly to the left, looking westward. All that he saw was dinosaurs and dragons in the heat of savage battle and the tall dune that served as a background for the bloodshed. "_I don't get it. What's he so happy about?_"

Ranney looked up further into the sky. The exhaust and smoke from rockets and explosions clouded the blue sky, concealing it from his view as the clouds that day would occasionally conceal the sun. The haze of battle started to dissipate and Ranney could start to see the cerulean firmament. At first, it seemed still, as it should have been...

But in the distance, the sky was moving...

* * *

><p>Strom's blade slammed into the earth, sending an explosion of sand out from under it. Tartarus, having dodged the attack, jumped off of the ground, into the wave of sand and dug his spike into the outside of the Spinomon's hand. Blood squirted out and Strom swiped his hand out, letting go of the blade and backhanding Tartarus.<p>

The draconic elite, bred for blood and battle, deftly righted himself and slammed his feet into the DinoRexmon behind him with enough force to knock the emerald reptile to the ground. He rebounded off of him and flew through the air back towards Strom. Tartarus dove under the searing, sapphire beam of a _Blue Prominence_attack, the blast no more than a blue reflection in his ichor eyes as he released his ten claws. The tips of the talons all stabbed into Strom's chest in different places.

Strom rumbled with pain, but narrowed his eyes. "I won't be taken down the same way twice!" he roared, swinging his hand out into the ten cables attached to the claws. The force of the sideways blow ripped the claws from the dinosaur's chest and forced them to crumple in the wind and drop.

Tartarus quickly reeled in the cords but continued his blitzing assault of Strom, his wrist-spikes still ready and poised to strike as he soared towards the Spinomon's face. "_Spiking Strike!_"

"FALL BACK!" Ishton's voice suddenly resounded, sweeping across the battlefield.

The proto super soldier stopped in mid-flight and turned. "_S_hit. You've gotta be kidding me. That idiot," he muttered, looking for the Slayerdramon.

Strom stopped as well, recognizing the dragon's voice. "_What?_" he asked. "_That was Ishton, wasn't it? He's calling them back? Is this a tactical withdrawal or are they actually retreating for good?_"

"FALL BACK!" Ishton's voice shouted again. It was strange to Strom. The Slayerdramon's voice lacked any hint of defeat. If anything, he sounded _more_confident. "SLAYER LEGION! PULL BACK TO THE EDGE OF THE DUNE!"

Tartarus studied Ishton further, looking at the dragon man and looking behind him, as well. Suddenly, a dark, evil smirk crawled onto the proto super soldier's face. He looked over at Strom. "I'll see you soon, Avenger. If you're still around," he spoke, his tone taunting and confident.

"I'll be waiting," Strom answered, snarling a bit as the Paildramon flew back.

"_Smokey Fang!_" both Drykar and Argo called out. Ten smoke grenades ejected out of their cannons and dug into the soft sand in several locations across the battlefield. The white gas seeped over the landscape, blowing in the breeze and covering the Slayer Legion's retreat.

Though fights and duels continued throughout the sandy battlefield, the majority of the Slayer Legion pulled back, following Ishton's orders. Some of the Palaeozoic soldiers allowed the Dramon to run, hoping that this retreat meant an end to fighting. They had hoped their numbers and resilience had proved too much for the invaders, driving the dragons back for good. Other soldiers attacked the Dramon that still battled and many of the ones retreating, as well. Strom watched as King Aegyptu swallowed up ten retreating Dramon all at once in a combination of gigantic blades and a giant plasma beam. He reaffirmed his mental note not to get on the King's bad side.

"YOU HAD BETTER RUN!" Aegyptu roared, brutally crushing a wounded Imperialdramon's neck as he took an imposing step forward.

Cheers and victorious roars began erupting throughout the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's ranks as the Slayer Legion started retreating back to the base of the dune, putting distance between the Sovereignty soldiers and themselves.

Strom ran over to Aegyptu, hoping to find out what the plan was. "Sire!" he said, panting and not even bothering to bow. "Are you sure it's a good idea letting them retreat?"

"Would you rather we lost more lives in battle?" Aegyptu asked, looking down at the field officer.

"No, but what if they're just pulling back to make us targets for the two Deckerdramon again?" Strom countered. "It's just... They're fanatics. It doesn't feel right, them suddenly retreating."

The larger and stronger Spinomon narrowed his eyes at the Slayer Legion, who wa largely concealed in smoke. "I'm going to find out their intentions. If the Deckerdramon attack, we charge them directly and scale that dune so they can't barrage us. If they don't retreat, we'll either drive them out or chop them down right here. They can take many of us down with them, but ultimately, they can't defeat us with the numbers they have now."

Strom sighed, watching as the tactically placed smoke began to disperse and reveal the Dramon once again. "That's exactly what I'm worried about... Why start a battle they can't win? Their intelligence on us can't be _that_poor, having fought us in the past. And if this was a suicide attack, they wouldn't just retreat suddenly."

"Damned if I know," Aegyptu responded.

At the other camp, Ishton flew upwards, ascending above the scattering smoke as if he had won the battle already. He smiled when he looked at the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. "_Good. We're divided,_" he observed. Ishton then spoke up, his voice thundering. "King Aegyptu and members of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty!"

King Aegyptu took a step forward, shooting Ishton a glare that would send any weaker digimon falling to their knees, groveling and begging for forgiveness. "Speak up, you flying newt! Your puny lungs make it hard for me and my fine army to hear your surrender speech!" Laughing spread among the saurian soldiers.

"Aegyptu and members of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty!" Ishton repeated, still smiling as he addressed them. "This is your one and only chance! If you give us the two Avengers you're harbouring, lower your claws, and vow to submit yourselves to the Dramon Empire, I promise that you'll all live to see another day! After all, chains are better than deletion... What's your answer?!"

Aegyptu's deep, bellowing laughter erupted, vocally mocking the sheer idea. "You have gall, dragon! I'll give you that! I appreciate the generous offer, but I think I'd prefer driving one of my spines up your shiny metal _a_ss!" More Palaeozoic digimon expressed their agreement with cheers. "You're not in any place to be making any demands to _us_!"

Ishton smirked. "_Just the answer I wanted to hear,_" he thought. "That's where you're wrong, Your Majesty!"

The Slayerdramon turned 180 degrees and extended an arm towards the parting smoke and exhaust as the wind revealed the sky. The sky was no longer that of cobalt and clouds... The skies were filled with dots and specks.

They were proceeding towards the battlefield, growing closer.

Ishton grinned widely as the Palaeozoic Sovereignty reacted with confusion. "What the hell is that?" King Aegyptu asked, squinting to try to make out what the Slayerdramon was referring to.

There were numerous mumbling and whispers among the dinosaur soldiers. Strom watched the horizon carefully. He gasped in absolute and utter horror, his eyes widening full.

"No..." he breathed.

Cheers erupted from the Slayer Legion as they climbed the dune and looked behind them. The swarm of minuscule outlines in the sky advanced. The closer they came, the more the Slayer Legion rejoiced. Dread began to fill the faces of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty.

The reason why this was was that the things in the sky were more than specks. They were more than a mirage in the desert heat. They were soldiers.

Thousands and thousands of soldiers.

They were the Dramon Empire and they filled the sky.

The Sovereignty's army watched in horror as the heavens were flooded with the Dramon Air Force. While they couldn't see it, they felt the vibrations in the ground from the advancing army. They watched the grains displace themselves under the tremors of heavy marching. Even the oasis pond rippled and quivered under their presence.

The confident smile that King Aegyptu had been wearing had faded. He growled in rage and trepidation. "This... can't be!" he roared. "We had a peace treaty!"

"_We_ never stopped fighting," Ishton answered, looking over his shoulder. "_Well, Duroth, it looks like you followed through._"

"Sire!" Strom shouted, watching with horror as the swarm of dragons stretched across the sky, surging closer. The beating of wings replaced the winds and the marching of feet shook the ground.

"My lord! My lord!" a Pteramon shouted, swooping out of the sky in front of Aegyptu. "It's the Dramon Empire! They're coming!"

"How many are there?!" Aegyptu snarled.

"More than last time! I think it's their entire army and their whole air force! There's so many! They outnumber us!" the Pteramon squawked in terror. Gasps and murmurs erupted from the soldiers, whose fear was drowned out by the invigorated roars and shouts of the Slayer Legion.

"It can't be!" Aegyptu craned his head over the peak of the dune to see for himself. Indeed, the Dramon reinforcements poured across the landscape. The land forces marched proudly to war as if parading through their own country. The army spanned as far back as Aegyptu could see. He looked up and the air force seemed to go on forever as well. They were like an oncoming storm ready to strike bolts of lightning down upon them. The air force soared with majesty and pride, flying in formation towards their destination.

"What do we do?!" Ranney demanded. "There's no way we can beat them alone! Where the hell are our allies?!"

"They'd never make it in time!" Gapsar replied, lowering his katanas in shock.

"What do we do, King Aegyptu?!"

"We can't win!"

The Spinomon king just watched as they grew nearer and nearer. For the first time that day, he felt fear and doubt in his heart. This was the absolute worst case scenario. The Dramon Empire was attacking their kingdom again... This time with everything they had.

Tartarus watched the Dramon Empire's army approach and let out a laugh. "Hahah! Looks like I'd better kill what I can before they get here!" he cackled maliciously.

Tha Dramon Air Force was a kilometre away now, still moving steadily and swooping down. The army followed close behind them.

"This is bad!" Ranney growled, unable to feel anything but defeated as the massive army swiftly approached.

Strom watched helplessly as the overwhelming throng of powerful dragons started converging on their position, though not reaching the Slayer Legion yet. "Damnit! Aegyptu! This is going to be a bloodbath!" he shouted.

"I know! What do you expect me to do?!" Aegyptu snapped frantically. "To arms! Everybody! Palaeozoic Soverignty! Fight! This is our home! Fight them to the last digimon! Kill them! Kill them all!"

"Prepare for battle!" Strom shouted in desperation, echoing his sentiments. "We can't let them get to the capital!"

The Dramon Empire's air force dove down from a high altitude. Lord Protector Arado Skrikewing was at the front of the formation, watching over the battlefield with calculating eyes. Each member of the Dramon Empire reinforcements had a red bandana tied around either one of their arms, a leg or a neck.

Arado looked over his wings behind him. "Deckerdramon and Cannondramon squads ready! Aim on the agreed coordinates! ...Fire!" he shouted.

The Lord Protector calmly closed his eyes and listened as the sounds of missiles and cannons being fired filled the air. A massive of ordnance and explosive ammunition arched from the rear of the Dramon army where the artillery troops were. The storm of missiles flew over the Dramon Air Force and descended towards the battlefield, the choir of death whistling as the ordnance plummeted.

Ishton turned forwards, watching the helpless Palaeozoic Sovereignty wait for their ranks to be torn apart by explosions. He smiled. The peak of his plan had finally come to fruition. This was where he would do it. This was where his conquest of justice would begin. This was his revenge.

The Slayerdramon closed his eyes and hovered in the air. "Gotungir..." he whispered as the missiles fell.

Roars of pain and agony erupted from nearby as the cacophony of explosions cracked and thundered into the air. Snarls of pain and anguish resounded. The Slayerdramon smiled lightly at the sound of justice being dealt.

But Ishton soon felt the heat of fire against his scaled chest. An explosion threw the unsuspecting Slayerdramon through the air. His eyes snapped open instinctively and he caught himself and swung around.

Ishton's eyes widened at what he saw.

Explosions ripped through the Slayer Legions ranks, sending geysers of fire, sand and data into the air. The missiles plummeted into the dune that the Ishton's Dramon were standing on. Power, fire, metal and death strafed the gathered Slayer Legion, tearing many of the Dramon to pieces.

"What the hell?!" Tartarus yelled, bracing himself as fire engulfed him and threw him to the ground.

Wromthrax shielded himself with his Caledfwlch wings. Shrapnel ricocheted off his chrome digizoid and the flames were held at bay, but he couldn't help but curse their luck as his comrades weren't so lucky. Drykar was also largely unaffected, as his armour was sturdy and his missile ports were stowed in his back. The shockwaves, on the other hand, still rocked his body.

However, Argo, the other Deckerdramon, had his missile ports open and at the ready, being eager to bombard the Palaeozoic Sovereingty prior to the mis-attack. Three missiles from fellow Dramon Empire Deckerdramon struck him in the back, detonating his ammunition, and blowing the bronze crocodile to pieces along with any of his Slayer Legion comrades who were in a thirty metre radius.

The massive explosion rocked the landscape and created an immense crater down the middle of the dune, as if making a valley through to the other side.

"What's going on?!" Ishton demanded flying high above the carnage and glaring at the Dramon Air Force. "Check your fire! You're hitting Dramon, damnit! Stop firing _right now_! The Palaeozoic Sovereignty is further east; can't you see?!"

The bombardment of the Slayer Legion continued, sending roars of pain up from the invading dragons and cheers of joy from the Palaeozoic Sovereignty soldiers at their cheer luck.

"They're attacking the wrong guys!" Ranney laughed, forgetting for a moment that they were still horribly outnumbered.

Strom merely stared in absolute shock as the Dramon before them were hammered with shells and missiles from the Deckerdramon and Cannondramon's fire.

Ishton roared in frustration. "_Shoryu Slash!_" he yelled, firing a beam at the last of the plummeting ordnance in the air before they could hit anymore of his soldiers. The blast taking the form of a dragon soared through the air and engulfed three of the shells, detonating them prematurely. The explosions caused a chain reaction, catching the other shells in their blasts which did the same to other nearby shells, creating a firework of explosions in the sky.

"Idiots!" Ishton yelled at the Dramon reinforcements. "I said check your fire! You're hitting my soldiers!"

"Cease marching and bombardment," Arado spoke to one of his officers, who relayed the order.

The MailBirdramon grinned and spoke up, staring at Ishton and the livid Dramon on the dune ahead of them. The Dramon Empire's army and air force all stopped behind Arado. Like all the other members of the Dramon Empire reinforcements, Arado had a red bandana. It was tied around his neck.

"Attention, unauthorized Dramon brigade! I speak again: Attention, unauthorized Dramon brigade!" Arado spoke up, addressing them with his ever-calm tone. "Surrender at once! Throw down your weapons immediately!"

"What?!" Tartarus asked in shock.

"Surrender and you will not have to die today," Arado repeated for emphasis.

Torrington, Ishton's UlforceVeedramon messenger, soared through the air, stopping in front of the Lord Protector. "We're on your side! We're the Slayer Legion! We've received High Councillor Duroth's blessing!" he protested.

"What's going on here?" Gapsar asked Aegyptu and Strom. The two were silent.

Arado ignored him. "Members of the Slayer Legion!" he spoke during the lull in the fighting and bombardment, loud enough not only for the Slayer Legion, but also for the watching Palaeozoic Sovereignty. "You are attacking a nation who we, the Dramon Empire, have a peace treaty with! You, the Slayer Legion, are jeopardizing the peace and wellbeing of the great Dramon Empire. Therefore, you are our enemies and you must all be brought to justice."

The MailBirdramon smirked and looked out to the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. "Friends in the Palaeozoic Sovereignty! I beg you, _do not_ attack any Dramon who has a red bandana around their body! We are your allies! Any Dramon _without_a red bandana is an enemy and, as such, an acceptable target! We of the Dramon Empire are not in league with these radical dissidents! Their policies and ideals are not ours! We are your allies!"

The Lord Protector turned back to the Slayer Legion, focusing on Ishton, who was staring at him, jaw agape, teeth bared, and panting heavily in rage.

"This is your _final_warning..." Arado spoke. "Surrender or prepare to face the consequences. All those surrendering gather around the oasis immediately. This is by decree of High Councillor Duroth R'Daruuk."

Ishton's wide, feral eyes were fixed on the Lord Protector. "...Duroth..." he whispered, winded and seething. "...DUROTH!"

A primal roar tore from the deep of his throat.

"**YOU BETRAYED US! DAMN YOU, DUROTH R'DARUUK!**"

* * *

><p>High Councillor Duroth stood in his office, arms resting behind his spiked back. He stood at the window behind his desk, facing southwards. The relaxed Dorbickmon stared out the window, his violet eyes gazing into the distance.<p>

* * *

><p><em>The Day Before...<em>

Duroth and Ishton stood opposite to each other in the High Councilor's office, the latter of whom had just told Duroth that the Palaeozoic Sovereignty had attacked them with the goal of invading deep into the Dramon Empire. The Dorbickmon responded by promising to send an army for them.

Duroth took Ishton's hand and shook it firmly, giving a sombre smile. "For the defence of a brighter tomorrow... Maybe one day we can all live a happy life... Wouldn't that be nice, High Lieutenant?"

Ishton gripped his hand firmly, looking at Duroth with an equally bitter smile. "I can't think of anything better, High Councilor..."

With those words, the Slayerdramon nodded at him and released Duroth's claws. The High Lieutenant turned around and strode out of the office, grinning inwardly. Lord Protector Arado, who had been waiting outside for them to finish, gestured for the Examon guards to hold the door for him after Ishton exited.

The MailBirdramon walked into the office and the guards closed the door behind him. He saw Duroth leaning against his desk in thought. "Arado," he said pensively, glancing over at him upon seeing the blue and silver glint of his metal body approach.

"What did he tell you, Duroth?" Arado questioned. "More than that Veedramon who tried to assassinate you, I hope."

"He told me that the Palaeozoic Sovereignty attacked us in the south. He says there's no time and that we need to send an army as soon as possible," the Dorbickmon replied.

The MailBirdramon frowned, wondering if Duroth had fallen for what was, in his eyes, an obvious lie. "What about what Erebus said?" he asked him.

Duroth turned to face Arado, locking eyes with him. "He told me that Erebus has a grudge against him because Ishton beat him once for disobeying orders," he explained.

Arado chuckled, expecting the Dorbickmon to join in. When Duroth didn't, the MailBirdramon's face became worried. "...You don't actually believe that, do you?" he asked.

"I do..." the high councilor replied.

The Lord Protector took a step towards him. "Did you get clobbered on the head as well as impaled?! You have to know that that Slayerdramon is spewing nonsense!" he protested.

Duroth looked at his friend firmly. "Arado..." he spoke. The crimson drake smiled. "I may be an idealist, but I'm not naive. Of course I realized he was lying."

The pale-faced MailBirdramon blinked, his mouth opening slightly in confusion. "...What?"

Duroth grinned. "This is exactly why I made you my second-in-command, Arado. I don't just keep you around for your wisecracks," he explained.

The metal raptor digimon sighed in relief but chuckled. "But I thought that was my finest quality!" he retorted. "So you were testing me?"

Nodding, the Dorbickmon folded his arms. "The reason I had you leave was so that Ishton would be able to speak his mind. After all, I'm just the foolish idealist that eats up every word that enters my ears," he explained, smirking.

Arado grinned. "He should still be inside the building. I'll send the order to arrest him," he said, starting to turn.

"No!" Duroth said firmly, surprising the steel dragon.

"What?" the Lord Protector asked. "Without him, those who joined his cause would be without a leader."

"We need to make him think that he's in charge," the Dorbickmon replied. "Besides, if we arrested him, it would incite the others to react even more violently. They need to think we're on their side."

Arado narrowed his eyes at him. "No... There's something else up your sleeve, Duroth. You're not telling me something..." he said, suspicion in his soothing voice.

Duroth smiled and closed his eyes. "You could always see through me when others couldn't, Arado," he replied.

The MailBirdramon's face remained expressionless. "What are you planning...?"

"Ishton wants us to send an army," Duroth spoke matter-of-factly. "So we'll send him an army..."

Arado's eyes widened ever-so-slightly. "You're seriously planning to send an army to help him? But what about the Palaeozoic Sovereignty?"

Duroth sighed and opened one eye to look at his best friend. "I'm not sending it to help him... We'll be sending our army to take those rebels out so that they don't spark another war."

"What?!" he protested. "They're still Dramon, Duroth."

"They're misguided warmongers either clinging onto their pride or looking for vengeance," Duroth answered calmly.

"Can't you imagine the public backlash? We'd be attacking our own species in such a fickle, uneasy time where tensions are already at a peak!" the MailBirdramon explained. "Such a violent method-"

"Is necessary," Duroth finished, locking eyes with Arado again. "...I know it will be a tough sell to the commanders and the public, but if we don't, we'll be thrown into civil war once again. The world will hate us and our nation will be reduced to ashes. That is _not_the future I am guiding this empire towards, Arado. I know I'll be able to convince them that Ishton's faction is nothing more than rebels and terrorists who intend to undermine the leadership and ideals of this empire."

"Even so..." Arado conceded, still reluctant, but finding truth in Duroth's words. "I'm not saying you're wrong to want to eliminate Ishton and his faction, but we have to be realistic, Duroth. Our military may still be mobilized, but it takes time to strategize and travel, not to mention the bureaucracy involved in convincing the others. For each minute we take, Ishton's faction is attacking the Palaeozoic Sovereignty and killing their soldiers and maybe even civilians. If we take Ishton out right now, we may be able to stop that."

"We don't know that," Duroth countered. The Dorbickmon sighed. "The soldiers that the Palaeozoic Sovereignty will lose in the conflict is a sad, but necessary sacrifice. It simply can't be helped, Arado. If we just sit around here, hoping that Ishton's capture and or execution will be enough, there's a just as likely chance that the people of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty will die..."

The MailBirdramon narrowed his eyes, carefully inspecting the Dorbickmon. "That's not the only reason you want to send the army. What are your hidden motives? I'm your second-in-command, Duroth. You need to trust me as much as I need to trust you."

Duroth nodded slowly. "...Very well," he said, walking closer. "I do trust you, Arado, with my life..."

"I want to allow Ishton to keep up his attack of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, just for a little bit," he explained. Arado was about to protest, but Duroth raised a claw, to stop him. "Just listen... The Palaeozoic Sovereignty will engage them in battle. We will then arrive as reinforcements. The only difference between what Ishton wants and what I want is that we will be attacking the Ishton's faction, not the Palaeozoic Sovereignty."

"What will that achieve outside of the points you've already stated?"

"When we attack Ishton's faction, we will be showing to the world that we are not afraid to fight in the name of peace, freedom and justice. We will show the world the _true_ideals and intentions of the new Dramon Empire. We will show them how we have changed," Duroth explained, smiling. "From crisis comes opportunity."

"Besides," he said, "we will be making an example out of Ishton and his followers so that people who think like he does won't attempt to try anything similar in the future. They will see that acting violently against the world with dated ideals and ignorant pride will only incur the wrath of the new Dramon Empire."

"The wrath, Duroth?" Arado said with a disturbed frown. "You're starting to sound like one of those people, yourself."

Duroth's red face flushed. "I'm sorry. I got carried away... Poor wording, I suppose..." he said sheepishly. "But Arado, if Dramon suddenly start attacking other nations or each other, then it's our duty to see that we put a stop to it before they hurt even a single innocent digimon."

Arado smiled. "Don't worry, Duroth. I know that your heart is a pure one. And I'll be by your side to keep that spiky head of yours grounded. I promise," he told him, with uncharacteristic warmth in his voice as he spoke to the Dorbickmon. "That said, are you sure about this?"

Duroth nodded solemnly. "I'm not happy about prolonging the conflict... and I pray that the Sovereigns forgive the regrettable act. However, it's the best possible solution, both for the Dramon Empire and for the world. We need to silence these advocates of war. Only then can the world know peace and happiness. I want to see a world united, undivided by species or class. Dramon should be able to walk among any digimon and any digimon among Dramon. I want everyone who deserves one to be able to live a happy life. That's my dream, Arado..."

The MailBirdramon looked at him fondly before smiling. "And I will help you realize that dream, Duroth..." he told him.

"Now let's go over what we need to do."

* * *

><p>As the battle in the far off land raged, Duroth stared out the window towards the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. He sighed at the lives lost, but a small smile eventually formed on his crimson face.<p>

"Ishton..." he spoke. "You thought you would be able to manipulate me. What you failed to realize is that the times are changing. Those like yourself, with selfish, hateful ideals, will be left behind..."

"Now, High Lieutenant... You're free to vanish."

* * *

><p>Ishton roared as he flew through the air, the Fragarach cutting through the desert wind as he charged a squadron of Pteramon X who were hovering high above him. "Charge!" he shouted. "If the Dramon Empire attacks us, fight them back! We've been betrayed by those weak-hearted fools who gained power! Both the Palaeozoic Sovereignty and the Dramon Empire are our enemies!"<p>

The Slayerdramon cut the sky with his Fragarach, cutting through three of the Pteramon X with one fluent stroke. A cascade of sparks and blood followed the sword as it arced.

Initially, many members of the Slayer Legion were unsure how to respond. Most of them immediately followed Ishton's example and charged either the Palaeozoic Sovereignty or the Dramon Empire's army. A few, however, either by fear of death or by remaining loyalty to the Dramon Empire, decided to take up Arado's offer of disarming and heading towards the oasis.

Roughly a hundred members of the Slayer Legion broke rank in the chaos and hurried over to the oasis before Ishton and the others' aggression prompted the Dramon Empire to attack all of them. An enraged Tartarus saw his comrades folding under the pressure so he decided to repay them for their troubles.

"You damn cowards! This'll teach you to betray us!" he shouted, raising his hip gun and claws. "_Desperado Blaster! Cable Catcher!_"

The Paildramon strafed them with powerful beam bullets all ten of his wire-guided claws, ripping through the fleeing dragons who were mostly of Champion and Ultimate level. Tartarus killed twelve with the one combination of attacks.

Drykar, who was standing on the dune, watched with horror as the proto super soldier mercilessly slaughtered even his own teammates. The Deckerdramon was about to go with the hundred who were defecting from the Slayer Legion, but as soon as he saw Tartarus murder several of them, Drykar knew what it was that he had to stay and do.

* * *

><p>Arado watched as the Slayer Legion resisted and started charging both them and the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. He pondered for a moment. It looked as if they would have to fight them after all. He took some pause at the prospect of some of the Dramon Empire soldiers deciding to side with Slayer Legion at the last minute, but he doubted that would be the case as most of the Dramon in the army were fiercely loyal to the empire, even if a moderate like Duroth was in charge. There was also the fact that soldiers were brothers-in-arms. He doubted they would be so quick to turn against their comrades for the sake of ideology. Arado figured that the ones of the Slayer Legion were a special case: digimon with a deep rooted grudge or hatred. Those sentiments still existed in his military, but Arado felt comfortable nonetheless.<p>

"Commence attack," Arado finally spoke, his words carrying the intensity of somebody who just woke up from a nap.

Torrington, Ishton's UlforceVeedramon messenger who had tried to reason with him, was still flying opposite to him. The azure dragon knight snarled and suddenly activated the Ulforce Sabre on his right V-Bracelet. He raised the emerald beam blade in front of him and glared at Arado with savage anger.

"Imego was a far greater Lord Protector than you will ever be! He'd never attack a fellow Dramon! Die, you traitor!" he shouted, charging at Arado at blitz speed with a blue afterimage behind him.

The MailBirdramon remained unfazed as the blue blur darted towards him, intending to kill. "_Nighthawk!_" he replied, angling his chest precisely. The cannon in his chest suddenly fired an intense beam of plasma forward, aimed at the attacking UlforceVeedramon.

Torrington, who was in the line of fire since he had been charging right at Arado, was caught in the blue-ish purple blast and sent reeling backwards, surprised, but relatively unharmed. He gritted his teeth and looked in front of him, seeing the cloud of plasmatic gas and residue starting to disperse. Torrington was about to charge through the mist with his Ulforce Sabre at the ready, but another azure blur burst through the cloud.

The glowing greenish-blue beam sword of another UlforceVeedramon plunged through Torrington's armour and burned deep into his chest. The attack's steam cleared and revealed a victorious UlforceVeedramon who wore a red bandana around his neck. The Royal Knight was none other than Balion Flamdring, who grinned smugly as he stared into the pained and stunned Torrington's eyes.

"Those idiotic words and sentiments are the exact reasons why you're dying right now," Balion explained condescendingly, withdrawing his Ulforce Sabre. "_The Ray of Victory!_"

The golden 'V' crest on Balion's chest glowed and erupted with burning power and it crashed into Torrington, engulfing him. Torrington's own crest shattered under the might of Balion's attack. A 'V' was burned through him and the rebel UlforceVeedramon was decimated by the crushing cobalt intensity.

Ishton saw both Torrington's death and killer and was incensed. "_You_! Damn you, Flamdring!"

Balion sneered and dove straight for Ishton, paying no heed to anybody else, friend or foe.

Behind Balion, the MailBirdramon Lord Protector unleashed a high pressure _Plasma Cannon_from his mouth, ripping through an AeroVeedramon who ambitiously tried to charge him.

"Only attack those who resist and refuse to surrender!" Arado ordered. "Under the threat of war crime allegations, nobody attack any Palaeozoic Sovereignty or Dramon Empire soldier!" the MailBirdramon relayed to both sides: the Dramon Empire's army and air force, along with their new found allies, the Palaeozoic Sovereignty.

"You heard him!" Aegyptu decreed in a roar, convinced by Arado's words and actions. "Come on, soldiers of the Sovereignty! Charge! Attack only the Dramon who don't have red bandanas! Make sure to _check_before attacking unless you feel like fighting their entire army!"

His reptilian brethren snarled in acknowledgement and charged from the east while the Dramon Empire boxed them in from the west. However, the Slayer Legion refused to be defeated, at least not without a fight.

* * *

><p>Balion and Ishton both made a beeline for the other, tearing through the dry, desert air towards their newly made opponent. The UlforceVeedramon's Ulforce Sabre hummed as it descended on Ishton. The Slayerdramon quickly raised his Fragarach and blocked Balion's breakneck quick attack.<p>

The pair had once fought side by side. Gotungir was Balion's mentor as well as Ishton's master and superior. Now the two were glad to fight each other, each for different reasons.

"You treacherous bastard!" Ishton growled, narrowing his gold eyes as the blueish-green light from Balion's beam weapon flashed in contention with his sturdy metal sword. "I finally get to rip that smug grin off of your face! I'll chop your wings off, tear your horns out and use them to pitch my tent!"

"My," Balion chuckled without concern. He continued looking down at his foe condescendingly as he continued to push his sword harder. "Small dogs bark the loudest, don't they?"

"You would know! _Shoryu Slash!_" Ishton's Fragarach flared with blue energy and seared forward, blasting Balion through the air.

The Royal Knight extended his wings and caught himself but saw Ishton charging aggressively and in seconds the Slayerdramon was upon him with his sword. "_Tenryu Slash!_"

Balion acted quickly and raised his left arm in front of him. "_Tensegrity Shield!_" From Balion's left V-Bracelet came a beam that formed a gigantic, dome-like network of compressed energy. The unbreachable barrier expanded from the bracelet and bashed into the charging Slayerdramon, knocking Ishton backwards through the air before he could slash Balion into two.

"Using that barrier offensively," Ishton snarled coldly. "Gotungir taught you that. Yet here you are standing against him. You're a disgrace, Flamdring. You never respected him, did you?"

"He's dead, Ishton," Balion responded, narrowing his red eyes at the fellow blue dragon. "Or have I missed something?"

"That's exactly why I'm fighting!" the Slayerdramon shouted. "The Rebels - the _Avengers_– killed him! And not just him, either! Every member of the Slayer Legion is fighting for vengeance! Yet the Dramon Empire – our own homeland – is bending over for the Rebels!"

In a second, the cobalt blur that was Balion appeared in front of Ishton and slashed his Ulforce Sabre. However fast he may be, Ishton's reflexes were honed through years of training too. The Slayerdramon caught the beam sword with the side of the Fragarach, sending tendrils of power sparking off the two swords. "Of course. I suppose you know a thing or two about bending over for others, Ishton," Balion taunted with insolence and condescension. A nonchalant grin formed. "I assume that Gotungir was the top in the relationship."

Ishton roared in rage and broke the clash of swords, swinging the Fragarach out with enough power to force Balion back. With the action, the end of the sword cut across Balion's bicep, drawing blood. "Gotungir always said you were too arrogant. Today's the day that it will kill you," Ishton hissed. "I'll be the one to do it. You deserve a Rebel's death."

"I'm with the Dramon Empire," Balion pointed out, allowing only a momentary wince on his face in reaction to the wound. "Who's the real rebel here, Ishton?"

"Were this a few weeks ago, you," the Slayerdramon responded, flying towards Balion. "But the Dramon Empire grew weak." Ishton slashed his blade vertically but Balion swerved to the side, only to be bashed by Ishton's tail. "In their wounded state, they reached out to those we deserve to rule over in a desperate bid for self-preservation! Or maybe the Rebel sympathizers were able to pull the wool over everyone's eyes! Well not the Slayer Legion! We remain true to our hearts and the ideals of the Dramon Empire!"

"How commendable!" Balion reacted with sarcasm, the 'V' on his armour shining intensely. "_The Ray of Victory!_"

Ishton dove into a steep dive to avoid the beam. After evading the burning power, he performed and aerial u-turn and rushed him again. "I don't understand it, Flamdring. Gotungir was your mentor. Even if you truly don't care about him, why are you siding with these weak-hearted saps!? After the final battle, you were telling me how disappointed you were at what the Dramon Empire was reduced to! You believe in Dramon superiority more than anybody! Your allegiance should be to your fellow Dramon: the Slayer Legion!"

Balion simply smirked and extended the Ulforce Sabre with a few adjustments to his V-Bracelet, increasing its energy output.

"My allegiance is to the _Dramon Empire_. The leader of my empire is Duroth R'Daruuk, _not_ you, Ishton. I will not sully my dragon pride by joining a bunch of whiny, pathetic nobodies who are bitter about getting their tails kicked. Part of our draconic pride is the ability to hold our heads up high even in defeat. Why? Because, even then, we're still better than everyone else. _You've_forgotten that simple fact just because your boyfriend is dead."

Ishton snarled. "You _worm_! _Tenryu Slash!_" The Slayerdramon slashed his blade down the Balion's left wing, cutting through the pink, leathery fabric.

Balion snarled in pain, but had to accept the blow in order to get close to Ishton. He surged forwards and sliced his glowing sword across Ishton's blue scales, grazing the left arm and side as he passed.

Doing his best to ignore the sudden stinging, Ishton swung around and whipped his sword. The bladed segments wrapped around Balion's ankle, stopping the speedy digimon in his flight and preventing him from using his speed and manoeuvrability to his advantage. Balion stopped in the air with a jerk and turned around.

"Flamdring, you're nothing but a spoiled, ungrateful mite. Gotungir would have never taught you the secrets of the Future Mode. And do you know what? With the egotistical way you are, you'll never discover the truth," Ishton said before yanking the Fragarach back, pulling Balion into his clawed fist.

The UlforceVeedramon recoiled and hacked his beam sword in front of him, though Ishton flew back in time to avoid the slash. Balion stopped and flapped his blue and pink wings. "At least I'm independent enough to make my own decisions," the dragon knight said upon stopping. "Can you name a single thing that you didn't put by Gotungir first?"

Ishton narrowed his eyes and raised the Fragarach in front of him. "Killing you, for one." And then he charged again.

* * *

><p>Strom's huge, heavy feet sunk into the golden sand with each thunderous step as he raced towards the Slayer Legion, who had set up their defence on top of the tall dune. At the scarred dinosaur's side were a throng of his fellow soldiers, all rejuvenated when the tide of battle turned in their favour. Few of them trusted the Dramon Empire as far as they could throw them, but they at least appeared to be on the same side. The fact that they were attacking the Slayer Legion was good enough for them.<p>

Even Strom felt an unpleasant, icky feeling inside him at the prospect of working alongside the Dramon, but he realized that they had very little choice. He also placed value in Arado's words. He wanted to believe that there were Dramon like him and Braon.

At the bottom of the sandy embankment were countless members of the Slayer Legion charging the saurian horde in response. Strom knew that the Dramon Empire was attacking the Slayer Legion from the opposite side of the dune, so it was their job to help box them in. Once that happened, victory was assured... hypothetically speaking.

"Pteramon squadrons one through eight! Prepare for air-to-air combat!" Strom ordered as he charged. "The rest of the squadrons are to bombard that dune before we reach it!"

"You heard him!" the leader of the Pteramon air force, a Pteramon X, shouted. "Missiles locked! ...Fire!"

"_Sidewinder!_" many voices shouted in unison.

The sky screeched with the sound of missiles flying over the dinosaur's heads. The smoke from ordnance's jet streams polluted the air as they flew towards their targets. Strom watched as the dune erupted with fiery explosions. However impressive the flaming geysers of sand seemed, the only ones killed in the explosions were a handful of Champion level digimon while a few Ultimates and several other Champions were wounded by the barrage.

"Move up!" Storm shouted. "And remember to check your targets! It's going to get messy in there!"

The army of dinosaurs closed in on the army of rebel dragons. Even though they had the Dramon Empire on their side, Strom wasn't about to get cocky. "_A cornered dragon is not something to be taken lightly,_" he thought. "_Our measly band of rebels managed to fight back against the dominating Dramon Empire and victor over the odds, so it's always possible that this band of fanatics could do the same._"

Strom reached over his spiked shoulders and drew two giant blades from his sail, spinning them in his claws before firmly clutching them in an overhand position. A red blast of energy streamed through the air towards the Spinomon, who quickly raised his makeshift sabre to whack the attack into a burst of nothingness. He then opened his maw and sent a torrent of plasma from his mouth. The beam swallowed up four rebel Dramon and reduced them to fragments of data.

Ranney sprinted up beside him, ready to head the charge. "Still alive?" he asked, grinning. "I'm at thirty six now. You?"

He glanced over but kept his focus on the charging ranks ahead of him. "Oh, shut up. You weren't stuck duelling a weaselly proto super soldier. I haven't even been keeping count."

"Spoken like somebody who knows they'll lose," Ranney laughed, charging forward with Gapsar at his heels.

"I told you, this isn't a game, Ranney!" Strom shouted after him, slightly irritated at how easygoing he was during battle.

"I know, Strom," Ranney replied, his voice serious this time. "I'll be watching out for you on the battlefield."

With that, the DinoRexmon dashed ahead of him and plowed into the Slayer Legion's disorganized ranks. Ranney crushed an Imperialdramon's foot as he nudged by her and proceeded to gore a Sealsdramon and Arresterdramon on the same toe claw.

Strom raced after him, holding his swords behind him and watching as his Palaeozoic brethren collided with the Slayer Legion in bloody battle and death once again. Fountains of blood and data sprayed forth from both sides. The Spinomon's handheld blades whirred against the wind as he dashed into the Slayer Legion's formation, if it could still be called a formation in all that chaos.

He slashed his left blade, feeling little resistance as it passed through the body of a DORUGamon, severing the dragon in two. The blade in his right hand then fell, embedding itself in an Airdramon's helmet before being ripped out when Strom sprinted by his disintegrating victims.

It was becoming too crowded for him to use attacks with high dispersion like _Sonic Slash Rain_ and _Blue Prominence_. He had to rely on his melee skills.

With a mighty kick, Strom's toe claws dug into the chest of a MasterVeedramon and sent the dragon sprawling across the sand. Strom lowered his blood-traced foot and looked around. A wingless Darkdramon charged at him with his lance at the ready.

"You'll pay for these wounds!" the Darkdramon hissed, glowering at the Spinomon that rendered him wingless during the last skirmish. "_Dark Roar_"

A spear of darkness crackled from the dark dragon's lance and burst forth. Strom tried his best to try to parry it but he was too slow to react. The shadowy bolt stabbed into the dinosaur's side and shook his form. Strom roared and collapsed to a knee, digging his left blade into the sand to support himself. Though grimacing in agony, Strom raised his right blade and chopped it through the air at the Darkdramon.

Though the member of the Slayer Legion had but bloody stumps for wings, he could still manoeuvre quickly enough to evade the attack. With the Spinosaurus crippled with pain, the Darkdramon saw an opening and charged. "_Giga Stick Lance!_" he roared, the rebel drake brimming with anger as he dashed.

The Darkdramon leapt over the blade that had dug into the sand upon missing him. He was now in between Strom's arms, facing the Spinomon's chest. Strom wouldn't be able to stab him at the awkward angle. It was times like this that Strom wished he wasn't so big.

The humanoid dragon lunged at him, ready to run Strom through with his sturdy lance. "This is payback for earlier!" he shouted.

Strom winced and craned his neck down, azure steam pouring out of his mouth. "_Blue Prominence!_"

A beam of sapphire plasma surged from his mouth like a waterfall, engulfing the Darkdramon who was centimetres away from burrowing his lance into Strom's scales. The torrent-like blast cloaked the lunging Darkdramon in blue flames. The dragon held against the point-blank attack for a few seconds before being reduced to nothingness.

However, the beam continued and brushed against the tough scales on Strom's bent leg. It slammed into the ground in front of him and detonated, nipping at the dinosaur's body before the blast threw him backwards. The Avenger grunted and spun his body so that he landed on his side. His spikes dug into the ground, but it was only moments before he was back on his feet again.

"_Not my proudest moment,_" he thought to himself, grunting as he pulled himself forwards. He hacked his blade through the body of an AeroVeedramon who dove down to try and attack him while he was stunned by his own attack. Blood tailed the blade as it swung through the air.

He looked ahead of him and saw the Dramon Empire making their attack on the Slayer Legion on the opposite side of the dune. All around him, his comrades were fighting bravely, slowly making ground and taking their hits as they did so. Strom gritted his teeth and ran.

"_Gotta move forward. The small fry are just getting in the way. With their Megas still active, we're in trouble. Have to take out that proto super soldier ba_s_tard too..._" Strom thought. His eyes flashed green. "_I just hope it gets to be me._"

* * *

><p>Tartarus scowled with fury as he flew above the Slayer Legion's ranks. The Palaeozoic Sovereignty was attacking from the east. The Dramon Empire was attacking from the west. They were surrounded and the odds didn't look good.<p>

"I don't care how many of them there are!" he snarled, his sanguine eyes burning hatefully. "I don't care _who_they are! Anybody that tries to attack me is destined to die!" he shouted. His unmelted hip cannon erupted with gunfire, sending beam bullets tearing through an Imperialdramon Dragon Mode of the Dramon Empire who dove towards them.

He looked over his shoulder at the Slayer Legion below, Drykar included. "Attack them! Shoot them all down! Kill every last one of them!" he ordered, leaving no room for argument. He had already demonstrated how merciless he was when he gunned down several of the Dramon that tried to surrender.

The Paildramon raised his arms and ejected several cables from his gauntlets. The claws impaled a Wingdramon, an ExVeemon and an Arresterdramon. "You treacherous weeds," he hissed, wrenching his cords back from the disintegrating bodies of his victims. "I'll show you all why I had the highest kill count in my class! It's because I'm a survivor! I'll climb over the bodies of all my challengers to make sure that I'm the one who comes out prosperous!"

Drykar watched silently from below as Tartarus ripped through the air and drove his spike through the skull of a fellow Paildramon. The Deckerdramon had been supporting his comrades against the charging Palaeozoic Sovereignty, but now that the dinosaurs had gotten in close to the Slayer Legion in the east, he couldn't fire upon them without collateral damage. However, the Dramon Empire soldiers were another story. They were all in formation, just beginning their attack on the Slayer Legion on the west side. They were all easy targets for the reptilian artillery placement.

...But he didn't fire. Drykar merely sat and watched. He watched Tartarus with hate in his red eyes.

"_Spiking Strike!_" Tartarus shouted, driving his arm spikes into the neck of a Groundramon who charged from below.

As the dragon roared and died, collapsing before the Ultimate, Tartarus turned around to check on the others. All the dragons of the Slayer Legion on that side of the dune who hadn't surrendered were mounting a counterattack on the Dramon Empire. All except Drykar, that was. This fact hadn't escaped the proto super soldier.

The Paildramon growled and flew towards the crest of the dune where Drykar was perched. "You! Drykar!" he snapped, speeding towards the Deckerdramon. "Get off your gigantic _a_ss and start barraging the Dramon Empire reinforcements! You're our anti-air support, so toast the bastards!"

Drykar raised his eyes to glare at Tartarus. "...No," he flatly replied.

"What?" the proto super soldier demanded. "I'm the second in command here!"

The Deckerdramon reversed his treads and positioned his body so that he stood facing along the side of the dune, emphasizing his point by directing himself away from the Dramon Empire. "I don't care, Dreadmor," he spoke. "My name is Drykar Veyark and I am a proud member of the Dramon Empire. I refuse to kill a fellow soldier of the Dramon Empire. Is that understood, you abhorration? No matter what you say or do, I will never follow an order you give. You may have forsaken the Dramon Empire for your own selfish and monstrous ambitions, but I have not."

Tartarus scowled with hate and disgust. "Attack, damn you! Attack them with everything you have or I'll tear you apart myself!" he shouted, livid.

Drykar returned the glare, reflecting all of Tartarus' emotions back at him. "Tartarus Dreadmor, there is only _one_digimon here worthy of my wrath..."

"You fat prick," the Paildramon hissed, clenching his blood-soaked hands. His baleful eyes glanced towards the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's troops who were growing closer and closer as they fought through the Slayer Legion's lines. Among the ranks was a digimon who he recognized.

Strom. The Avenger whose friend he killed.

A dark grin crept onto Tartarus' face and he flapped his wings, soaring towards the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's forces.

"Hey! You!" Tartarus shouted, waving his hand at the Spinomon.

Strom, who had just finished hurling a Sealsdramon into the ground, looked up. He spotted the muscular Paildramon and seethed. He knew who his next target was.

"Why don't you take me on again, mighty Avenger!? I can't tell you how much fun it was running through that Pteramon. He wasn't a friend of yours, was he?" Tartarus said with a taunting chuckle.

Strom snarled and started charging towards him. Even before Tartarus finished talking, the Spinomon had already started superheating the metal in his body, building up plasma. "You're dead!" he shouted.

Tartarus grinned and descended, putting himself right between Drykar and infuriated Spinomon. Drykar looked over at him. "What are you doing?" the Deckerdramon asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

The proto super soldier glanced over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye. "I've been waiting for this..." he laughed...

"_Blue Prominence!_" Strom roared.

Cobalt fury ripped from Strom's mouth in the form of a massive beam blast. It was in that moment that Drykar realized what was about to happen.

The beam surged through the air towards Tartarus. The Paildramon grinned, confident, as the azure sheen of the attack grew brighter the nearer it got. With only a chuckle, Tartarus flew up, above the beam, at the very last minute.

Instead of Tartarus, the _Blue Prominence_slammed into Drykar's armoured side. The plasma burned and melted Drykar's plated skin, coursing deep into his chest. The Deckerdramon released a massive bellow of pain that shook the sand as the beam coursed into him.

Strom grunted, annoyed at having missed his target. "_Damn. He doesn't even care if he puts his own comrades in danger._"

Drykar groaned and slowly turned his head to look at the wound in his side. There was a gaping, smelted hole in his flank, between his fore and hind leg. Blood and data gushed out. "T-Tartarus... You... Damn you..." he rumbled, the blistering pain clear in his voice.

The Paildramon laughed, but his triumph was cut short when something black rammed into him, tackling him out of the air. Tartarus felt his back impact with the warm sand and he felt the grains wash over his wings as he skidded through it. The proto super soldier swore and looked up.

In the sky above him was a humanoid dragon clad in black rubber armour. A stoic Cyberdramon hovered above. Around his right bicep was a red buff, the standard issue bandana of all the Dramon reinforcements who showed up. Erebus Artorius stared down at Tartarus with contempt.

"You are my enemy," Erebus snarled, swiping the air with his data-destroying claws before bringing them together in front of him. "_Desolation Claw!_"

A beam of purifying white light vaulted down towards Tartarus. The Paildramon rolled backwards and leapt into the air, watching as the attack of extermination utterly erased the sand in front of him. Before Tartarus had a chance to react, Erebus' claws were around his helmeted face, threatening to increase the fractures in the red metal.

Unable to vocalize his attack, Tartarus just opened fire with his hip cannon. The beam bullets slammed into Erebus' armoured chest. The rubber armour was durable enough to withstand the beam bullets, but they still felt like several swift and painful punches to the gut.

Erebus endured the pain and the claws crushing Tartarus' head started glowing. "_Cyber Nail!_" he growled.

Before he could follow through with the attack, Tartarus extended his arm spike and drove it towards Erebus. Even with his rubber armour, the Cyberdramon knew that it would be sharp enough to dig through, so he was forced to release the Paildramon and jump back.

"Sloppy move, Cyberdramon!" Tartarus taunted, despite his arm extending completely and the spike still falling short of his target.

The silent dragon didn't grace his opponent with a response. Instead, he swiftly grabbed Tartarus's extended arm, gripped it tightly and threw himself at the Paildramon. Erebus drove his fist into Tartarus' face three times until Tartarus raised his free hand to karate chop his foe's knuckles before he could be punched again.

Tartarus then pivoted his body, aiming his hip cannon and opened fire, sending beam bullets between Erebus' legs. The Cyberdramon snarled in pain and staggered back, the pain forcing him to release Tartarus' arm. The proto super soldier then lunged forward and plunged his wrist spike into Erebus' gut. The tip managed to dig through the rubber armour and pierce his outer scales, but he was spared any mortal injury.

"_Cyber Nail!_" Erebus countered, dropping his glowing claws towards Tartarus' outstretched arm.

Before his arm was slashed off, Tartarus quickly pulled back, yanking his blood-laced spike from Erebus' armour. The Paildramon jumped high into the air and strafed the dragon with bullets. Erebus snarled and flapped his crimson wings, ascending as well. "_Desolation Claw!_" he growled, flying up in front of Tartarus and sending the data-deleting beam into him at nearly point-blank range.

Tartarus barely had enough time to brace himself as the vaccinating power washed over and sent him reeling through the air with traces of the data in his scales being destroyed.

"Bastard," Tartarus hissed. "I can tell; you've got some skills..." The Paildramon angled his wings and dropped into a steep dive only fly up again at an equally steep angle. He flew up behind Erebus, prompting the Cyberdramon to swing around and slash. Erebus found himself hacking at air and immediately dropped down in his flight defensively.

Tartarus, however, had already passed overhead and was behind and below Erebus. He stabbed upwards and sent his spikes, as well as a hail of bullets, into the Cyberdramon's armoured back. Erebus grimaced in pain but acted quickly. He whipped his powerful, armoured tail into Tartarus' face and swung around, drops of blood flying into the air as the spikes were ripped from his back. Erebus hacked his claws down Tartarus' bicep, drawing five red, liquidy lines through his blue scales.

A growly cuss escaped the shielded mouth of Tartarus, who quickly thrust his right spike towards Erebus' face. The Cyberdramon quickly tilted his head, letting the metal rod graze against his helmet instead of stabbing into him. Tartarus used the momentum of the failed strike to spin counterclockwise, slamming his tail against Erebus' side and following up with a kick to his abdomen.

Erebus grunted, taking the kick but keeping his claws around the proto super soldier's ankle. Then the Cyberdramon suddenly stopped flying, allowing himself, along with Tartarus, to drop. Using the speed he was gaining, he swung Tartarus downwards by his leg, sending the Paildramon slamming into the sand. Erebus was then on top of him, using his knee to land on Tartarus' ribs and send his jagged claws falling towards the dragon's neck.

Knowing he had to get out of that position, Tartarus used his strength to flip backwards, sending Erebus falling forwards. The Paildramon flipped the draconic warrior off of him and rolled to his feet before turning around and firing with his _Desperado Blaster_along with three of his claws.

Before they could come close to him, Erebus had already darted vertically. Tartarus sneered and jumped into the air so that Erebus wouldn't have the higher ground over him. "You're actually giving me trouble," Tartarus said, a mixture of esteem and irritation in his darkened voice.

Erebus merely grunted and breathed heavily.

Tartarus' cannon made a loud, cracking, pitter-patter sound as beam bullets guided his ascent, nipping at the Cyberdramon's tail as they flew higher. Erebus made an arc in his flight path and started charging Tartarus from head on. Tartarus went to meet his charge.

"_Cyber Nail!_"

"_Spiking Strike!_"

The two clashed and forced one another backwards. Both took laboured breaths as they glared, hovering in their place for a few moments. For them, it was as if the bloody fighting all around them, in both the land and air, was nonexistant. It was just them; a duel between two draconic warriors.

"You should be proud, Cyberdramon," Tartarus told him with a grin. "You've gone up against a proto super soldier and lived to tell about it..." There was a dangerous glint in the Paildramon's eyes. "For now, at least..."

Erebus stared at his opponent, his expression unreadable. "A proto super soldier...?" he asked breathily.

"Never heard of us?" Tartarus questioned, narrowing his eyes at him. "We're the elite of the elite. Born and raised for battle. I'll show you the reason we were called the Dramon Empire's Exterminators."

Erebus snarled angrily and tackled Tartarus towards the ground. Tartarus punched him off, but couldn't right himself before crashing into the ground. Erebus landed gracefully several feet in front of the proto super soldier. "You may be that," the Cyberdramon growled in a murmur. "But I'm not one to be taken lightly either..."

* * *

><p>Drykar, severely wounded by Strom's attack, slowly traipsed down the western side of the tall erg. The sand shifted in large waves under his great weight as his treads slowly pulled his form down towards the sandy plane. Blood trickled down his metal side from the sizeable hole in his flank. His form was wracked with agony, but he still dragged himself.<p>

Without even needing to look at the wound, he knew he was in bad shape. He could feel the data around the superheated wound separating. Drykar wasn't sure if it was fatal, but if it was, he knew that he didn't have much time.

With a grimace, he pulled himself onto the flat plane and looked towards what was once their forward operating base. On the land around the oasis, the Slayer Legion troops met with both the Dramon Empire's ground forces and air forces. They fought desperately, but it was that desperation that empowered them. In terms of skill, they were more-or-less on even grounds as the Dramon Empire's forces simply because the Slayer Legion were once apart of their military. It would come down to quantity versus willpower.

He wasn't sure what happened to Tartarus after he had baited Strom into attacking him. Through his pain, he thought he saw something black, red and brown tackle him out of the air. He hoped Tartarus was dead.

"_For all my crimes,_" Drykar thought, wincing. "_I hope that one good thing can come out of this. If I'm going to die, I would die happy knowing that that monster had been destroyed as well._"

Drykar stayed back from the western frontlines, where the Slayer Legion and Dramon Empire were clashing in battle. He couldn't attack his fellow Dramon. However, when he looked up into the sky, he began to question his decision.

He watched from below as Ishton and Balion clashed in bitter combat.

"Trying to kill Gotungir's apprentice?" Balion taunted as he activated the _Tensegrity Shield_in time to block a powerful slash of Ishton's Fragarach. The connected segments of the sword rebounded back upon contact with the nearly transparent barrier. "I don't think your 'master' would approve, now would he?"

"You and I can take it up with him in the afterlife!" Ishton responded, rushing forwards as soon as Balion deactivated the shield.

"_The Ray of Victory!_" Balion shouted, the large golden V-crest on his chest glowing and unleashing wings of burning, cobalt light.

Ishton swooped under the attack to avoid it, successfully doing so despite the fact that the end of his green cape was disintegrated by the 'V'. "_Tenryu Slash!_" Ishton hacked his sword towards Balion's midsection and legs. The UlforceVeedramon hastily buffeted his wings and flew backwards. Despite Balion's speed, the Fragarach cut through both sets of tights on his unarmoured legs and into his azure scales.

Balion winced in pain, but pretended to appear unaffected by the successfuly hit. "Afterlife, hmm?" he asked. "Those are the words of a Dramon who's accepted his defeat. I always knew that you were a loser. You're far too passive to be a _real_warrior!"

As Balion spoke goaded and ridiculed his foe, both for fun and for strategic purposes, the wound he sustained slowly healed. His Ulforce was still immature: at its stage, it was only present due to his form. The overwrite sequence that allowed his data to be rewritten faster than it could be deleted was still largely untapped. It could only be mastered through the deep understanding of the Future Mode: an evolution that Gotungir was privy to. Balion was still bitter that Gotungir had died before sharing with him the secrets.

"Passive?" Ishton questioned. He charged, slashing his glowing sword vertically, only for Balion to swivel to the right. He then swung around, swinging the Fragarach vertically. The sword wrapped around Balion's left forearm and dug into his scales. The Slayerdramon sneered. "If I were passive, would I have had the nerve to start this campaign of justice?!"

Balion quickly activated his _Tensegrity Shield_, forcing the Fragarach to untangle around his arm and fly back into the air. Ishton locked the sword into place and found himself lucky enough to land a firm kick to Balion's gut before the wily dragon could use his speed to dodge. The UlforceVeedramon let out a winded gasp but managed a growl and a swift punch to Ishton's face in return. When the Slayerdramon was reeling, he charged forwards with his Ulforce Sabre, preparing to stab him, but Ishton swung the Fragarach into the Balion's bright blue beam blade, the force of the mighty deflection knocking the dragon's arm to the side.

Using the momentum of the movement, Ishton swung around and smashed both his tail and boot into Balion's upper body, sending the dragon noble flying backwards. Balion stopped in the air and gave a cross between a sneer and a smirk behind his metal mask. Suddenly a Megadramon zoomed towards Balion, his metal claws closed together.

"Ishton, sir!" he shouted.

Balion needed only a momentary glance to make sure there was no bandana on him. As the Megadramon closed in, yelling, "_Ultimate Slicer!_" the Royal Knight swung around nonchalantly. The Ulforce Sabre hummed as it cut through the Megadramon's neck and sent the soldier bursting into millions of pieces of data.

The Dramon Empire soldier looked at Ishton. "So you truly did organize this whole coup? I would never have guessed! Isn't that precious...?"

"It's all thanks to Gotungir's teachings," Ishton said in reply.

"For the Great Dramons' sakes! Are you quite done? It's as if you are stuck on a loop! 'Gotungir' this! 'Gotungir' that! 'I'm sad that Gotungir didn't give me a kiss today'! Do you realize how pathetic you sound?" Balion asked goadingly. "You revere him, but look where his so-called teachings got you; your army is being decimated by our superior skill and numbers."

Ishton narrowed his eyes, glaring at Balion balefully. "You're right, I _do_ venerate him. He took me in and made me into what I am today. He taught me the art of war and helped me to master the Ryūzanken technique when I digivolved. He means more to me than your puny brain could _ever_ hope to understand," he explained. "But you, Flamdring... He told me that you not only don't deserve to know the secrets of the Future Mode, but you are _incapable_of understanding them. Your soul is just too cold and weak... and the snobby, friendless, lonely braggart you are, that's really no surprise at all..."

For the first time during that battle, it looked as if Ishton's words actually got under Balion's scales. He scowled and started adjusting with his left V-Bracelet, playing with the buttons and wires. Instead of the Tensegrity Shield, a second Ulforce Sabre extended. "Up until this point, I've been playing with you, Kirzarv. It's time to finally end this rivalry we have. I'll send you to meet your lover soon. You can send him my regards."

"Whatever," Ishton replied dismissively, taking the Fragarach in both hands for better control.

Balion became an azure blur, ripping through the air as he charged.

"_Shoryu Slash!_" shouted the Slayerdramon, cracking the Fragarach and causing azure power to sweep forth from its blades. The draconic blast seemed to be going off angle, going by the assumption that Balion was flying straight at him. However, Ishton had predicted what Balion would do. He watched with satisfaction as the blur turned right into the attack's path. The blast exploded against the Balion, who had anticipated the attack would go straight for where he assumed Ishton thought he would fly. He underestimated the Slayerdramon and received a great deal of pain for his troubles.

Ishton's opponent had been slowed down. He took the opportunity to soar towards him with his sword, hoping to take the rare advantage. "_Tenryu Slash!_" he growled. The glowing sword fell like a bolt of lightning towards Balion. Luckily for the UlforceVeedramon, he had the speed and reflexes to match a bolt of lightning. The blue knight bashed the Fragarach to the side with his left beam blade and his chest began to flare.

"_The Ray of Victory!_" Ishton watched with wide eyes as a 'V' shaped beam exploded from Balion's chest right in front of him.

He quickly tried to raise the Fragarach to attempt to defend himself, but he could only partially block the burning radiance as it washed over him. Ishton yelled out with pain as he felt his arms and shoulders be burned by the radiance. Despite the pain, he tried his best to counter. "_Sh-Shoryu_...!"

As the draconic blast started to emanate from the golden sword, Balion suddenly flew upwards, above where the energy was going to hit. The UlforceVeedramon drove the tip of his boot into the dead center of Ishton's snout. Blood trickled through the dry air as the Slayerdramon was sent careening from Balion's kick.

"_The Ray of Victory!_" Balion followed up, another cobalt ray surging from his chest towards the leader of the Slayer Legion.

With blood streaming down his snout and into his mouth, Ishton looked up to see the flaring beam quickly approach. He cursed his decision not to wear armour. In order to protect his exposed chest, Ishton quickly raised his armoured legs in front of him like he was doing a cannonball. The blast collided with his shins and parted around him, knocking him further backwards. Luckily for him, he was spared any severe damage.

Balion wasn't about to let up though. He blitzed Ishton, who was attempting to stop his aerial descent. "Damn you, Flamdring!" Ishton yelled, spreading his legs out and slashing the Fragarach down on Balion.

The UlforceVeedramon raised his left Ulforce Sabre to block it, but the flexible sword whipped around and cut deep into his bicep. Balion snarled angrily, unable to hide his pain, but he was quick to respond. He gave a draconic roar and thrust his right arm forwards. The humming beam sword dug into Ishton's left arm, burning through flesh but missing the bone, and came out the other side.

Ishton roared in agony and fury. He cracked the rigid hilt of the Fragarach into Balion's face. The Royal Knight grunted and bashed the side of his hand across Ishton's face, who had to immediately duck to avoid the sword.

Balion followed up with a strong knee to Ishton's gut. He then looked at him with a glint in his red eyes. "_The Ray of Victory!_"

The blast sent Ishton spiralling backwards in pain. Balion flew after him with his arms drawn back. "It has been nice knowing you, Ishton, but now it's time for you to die!" he shouted, ripping towards Ishton with his swords. "Tell Gotungir I don't need him to figure out Future Mode! Now behold how a real Dramon finishes the job!"

Ishton's gold eyes widened as the UlforceVeedramon closed in. He knew he couldn't react in time to stop him. "_N-no... This can't be it..._" he thought as Balion blitzed towards him and thrust the Ulforce Sabres forward.

"_Smokey Fang!_" a pained voice shouted from below.

Just as Balion started the stabbing motion, a large, metal cylinder shot up in front of them and exploded between the two dragons.

Balion let out a yell of surprise as it erupted with a cacophonous pop, sending a piece of shrapnel cutting across his hand and huge cloud of thick smoke everywhere.

Drykar watched from below as the thick, white haze bloomed from the shell like a flower in the sky. The airspace was filled by the smoke as it grew and spread.

"Wh-what in the...?" Ishton whispered, flying backwards with his Fragarach at the ready.

"Ishton!" Drykar shouted from below. "Get out of there! You're... outmatched as it is now!" Having been watching their duel, the Deckerdramon was sure that Ishton would have been killed had he not intervened.

"Drykar?" the Slayerdramon asked in shock, trying to fly out of the haze. He finally did so, smoke trailing his form, and looked down at the Deckerdramon. "Drykar!" he suddenly shouted, his eyes growing wide upon seeing the large wound in Drykar's side.

Drykar smiled at him reassuringly. "...Go," he told him. "You don't want to die... to the likes of him, do you...?"

Ishton grimaced, his facial features showing his inner pain. "But..."

The Deckerdramon closed his eyes. "Don't worry about me, Ishton... I'm not going to die yet... Not just yet..." he spoke, reopening his eyes to show Ishton his resolve.

Ishton reluctantly nodded, returning the meaningful gaze. He was forced to turn away. "Farewell, my friend," he said. With a bitter cringe, a tear entered his eye.

"Farewell, Ishton..." Drykar replied, smiling lightly. He watched Ishton fly off under the cover of the smoke, heading towards the eastern side of the dune where the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's army was fighting the other half of the Slayer Legion.

The Deckerdramon looked up and saw something shoot out from the smoke, trailing the white, gaseous veil in its wake. Balion swooped down, looking around for Ishton, but saw that he was nowhere to be found.

"Damn it!" Balion growled, coughing out some smoke that he inadvertently inhaled. "Where is he?!"

"He's gone," Drykar replied, as calm as he could with the wound that he had.

The Royal Knight looked down at the wounded bronze crocodile and sneered. "You did that..." he hissed. "You will pay for getting in my way!"

Drykar merely watched as Balion surged towards him with the Ulforce Sabres at the ready. "_Lex..._" he thought sadly. "_I'm sorry that I won't be able to come visit you like I said..._"

Balion swooped down towards Drykar and dragged his two beam sabres along the Deckerdramon's back. A roar of pain resounded from Drykar's throat as the Ulforce Sabres melted through his metal, running the length of his back. The UlforceVeedramon turned around and smirked upon reaching his tail. "It's like he's not even trying..." Balion said to himself.

The UlforceVeedramon flapped his wings and became a cobalt blur. The blur whipped across Drykar's back, leaving a bloody gash in its wake. He then slashed across the top of Drykar's snout. The Deckerdramon's tail was then cut open with the accompanying hum of two beam swords that the blue streak wielded while passing over him.

Drykar grunted in pain with each new cut that emerged on his body. The Deckerdramon inched forwards slowly across the sand, moving only his treads. Blood trickled down his body from the fresh cuts that kept appearing in different places on his body in the wake of the lightning fast UlforceVeedramon.

"I... will not... attack him..." Drykar whispered, keeping his cannons locked inside his scar-tarnished back. "I will not... attack a fellow Dramon..."

Balion ripped through the air, dragging the Ulforce Sabres across the back of Drykar's neck. He then pivoted to the right and raked them across the digimon's right legs. Drykar grimaced at the searing pain, refusing to protect himself. He could have easily put up an anti-air barrage to stop Balion in his tracks, but he vowed that he wouldn't. He would never allow himself to be like Tartarus... even if it killed him.

"How moronic are you?!" Balion asked him in a laugh as he burned into Drykar's back once again. "Do you _want_to die?!"

Drykar roared in pain, but proceeded towards the battlefield where the Slayer Legion and Dramon Empire waged war. Blood and melted burns in his armour riddled his form.

"This..." he rumbled to himself in a near murmur, "...is my atonement..."

He let out a strained snarl of effort as he pushed himself forwards, even as one of Balion's Ulforce Sabres slashed through Drykar's wounded side. "My amends... for the deeds I've done in the name... of vengeance and hatred...!"

Drykar gasped, feeling particles of data begin to trail off of his body. The Deckerdramon felt the bits of data begin to leave him and he started to feel light-headed as he dragged himself forwards.

Balion slashed his beam swords through Drykar's armour a few final times before observing his target and seeing the data escaping his form. "That should do it," the UlforceVeedramon spoke, smiling smugly as he admired his handiwork. The Royal Knight then sped off to find another member of the Slayer Legion to kill.

Drykar gave a weak groan of pain and continued to inch forward. He knew that he was dying. Drykar closed his eyes when tears started to emerge in them.

"Elle... Celia..." he whispered, thinking about his wife and daughter. The tears trickled down his face. "I'm... so very sorry for the things that I've done... I know that you will be saddened and disappointed... I just... miss you both so much..."

He snarled and tread through the sand. In the distance, he saw Tartarus fighting against Erebus. "I'll... see you both shortly... I can't wait to see you both," he whispered, glaring at the Paildramon as he did. "But... there's something... I have to do first..."

"Just... one last thing..."

* * *

><p>Erebus punched Tartarus across the face and sent him stumbling in reverse. Tartarus responded while staggering by raking Erebus' body with beam bullets fired from his cannon.<p>

The Cyberdramon grunted in pain and flew up into the air to both avoid the attack and give him leverage. He slashed the air in front of him, ripping up the data in front of him before bringing his claws together to fire a beam from between them. "_Desolation Claw!_" he snarled.

The beam tore from his palms and exploded at Tartarus' feet, who jumped upwards like Erebus and fired his five of his claw which stabbed into Erebus' armour. He sneered and swiped his arm, bashing the claws out of his armour. With his claws glowing with virus-deleting energy, he flapped his four red wings and rushed Tartarus.

"_Cyber Nail!_" he growled, swiping his right claws down vertically. Tartarus was able to block with his left hand, but Erebus followed up by slashing diagonally up with his left set. The claws dug into Tartarus' scales, causing a few drops of blood to splatter on the 'X' on the proto super soldier's chest.

Tartarus, who was still retracting his wired claws, grimaced and kicked Erebus in the abdomen to propel himself off. The Cyberdramon grunted as the he was sent backwards due to the vigorous punt. He flapped his wings to right himself, trying his best to brush off the Paildramon's impact. Erebus growled.

A proto super soldier...

Despite his pain and the blood running down his front, Tartarus grinned. "Don't get cocky, Cyberdramon."

Erebus gave him snarly grunt. "Neither should you..." he warned him.

Tartarus opened fire with his remaining hip cannon once again, forcing Erebus to cross his rubber- shielded arms in front of him to brace the attack. The Paildramon grinned and pointed his left hand. "_Cable Catcher!_"

The wires from his left hand ejected and wrapped around Erebus' right ankle. He yanked it sharply and caused Erebus to fall backwards and begin to fall towards the ground. Tartarus flew after him while retracting his claws. The spike on his right wrist was extended.

Erebus growled, seeing Tartarus swooping towards him with the aims to attack. While flapping his wings to catch his abrupt descent, the Cyberdramon wrapped his claws around the thrusting spike and stopped it before it could pierce his neck. Tartarus plunged the other spike towards him, but Erebus ducked. The proto super soldier followed up by pointing his fingers down at the Cyberdramon and firing them for good measure. They stabbed into his armoured bicep, just above where Erebus' red bandana was.

Seeing this gave Tartarus an idea. He yanked his right arm back and reached for Erebus' bandana. "_If you're not wearing that, the Dramon Empire will think you're one of us and that will put one big ass target on your back,_" he thought maliciously.

"Do not touch that!" Erebus roared, grabbing his arm and twisting it enough for several cracks to be heard. With his other hand, the black dragon man hammered his fist down on Tartarus' face, followed up by raising his leg high and performed a flexible drop kick to the Paildramon's collar. Tartarus fell to the ground on his back.

"_Desolation Claw!_" Another beam ripped from his hands down towards Tartarus, but he rolled to his side, got to a knee and jumped out of the way as the blast of white light hit the ground and exploded, deleting lots of sand as it did.

Erebus flew down towards the ground, landing since he would have more forward motion with his feet on the ground than he would if he were flying.

"You, Mister Silent Cyberdramon," Tartarus hissed. "What's your name? You do have one, right?"

"What is it to you?" Erebus asked defiantly.

"Because I want to know the name of the guy who gave me so much trouble before I killed him," Tartarus responded.

He gritted his teeth. "Erebus..."

"Erebus..." Tartarus echoed, finding the name familiar. He then frowned as he remembered the name. "You're that guy! The ace fighter! The one who told Ishton to piss off!" he stated excitedly.

"Correct," Erebus spoke, readying his claws.

The dragon simply laughed. "Hahahah! I can see why he wanted you! It's just too bad you're wasting your talents sticking with them. Oh well, you chose death, so I'm going to give it to you, Darky."

"It's never a waste to fight for justice..." Erebus murmured to himself, watching as Tartarus dashed towards him.

The Paildramon raised his left hand and shot one of his wire-connected claws at Erebus. His target ducked out of the way, so Tartarus fired three more in consecutive order. Erebus rolled to avoid them and, upon feeling his feet on the ground again, jumped into the air to avoid the final claw. Tartarus scowled in annoyance and raced towards the Cyberdramon with his spikes.

Erebus swung around planting his left foot in the ground to stop his movement and bent his leg in order to spring towards Tartarus. "_Cyber Nail!_"

As Tartarus thrust his gauntlet-clad hand forward, hoping to stab him, Erebus caught the hand in his glowing claws before it could skewer him. His claws started to dig into the metal of the gauntlet. He quickly swung his other arm, hoping to tear his claws into Tartarus' stomach, but the Paildramon had other ideas. At the action, Tartarus quickly pushed his arm upwards. His spike dug into Erebus' bicep, causing a bit of blood to spurt out from beneath the armour.

Erebus growled and ripped the spike out his arm. On the back swing, he raked his energy-wreathed claws through Tartarus' left bicep, causing crimson ooze to emerge from the parallel gashes. He then hammered his fist into Tartarus' face. The fractures in his crimson helmet elongated with the impact.

Stumbling back from the hit, Tartarus fired his claws into Erebus' foot. With his opponent in pain, Tartarus lunged forward, flexing his large muscles as he winded up for a powerful punch. He drove his fist towards Erebus and the blow connected with his foe's chin with enough power to send Erebus flying off of his feet and onto his back. The dragon landed in the sand and grimaced, feeling a trickle of blood drip from the corner of his mouth where one of his sharp teeth had dug into his lip.

Tartarus panted and glared at Erebus. "What's wrong, Mister Fighting Ace?" he said mockingly. "Can't take a punch?"

Erebus clenched his teeth and slowly stood up, breathing heavily as well. "Die already," he spoke. "Shadows like you should be purged from this world."

The proto super soldier simply laughed. "Whatever. Are you some sort of paladin vaccine type who's on a crusade to destroy everything evil?" he asked. "Hah, you know what, Erebus? You seem kinda familiar. Have we met before?"

The Paildramon stood still and eyed him carefully. A blast exploded right behind Erebus, but he remained stoic despite it. A dark grin grew on Tartarus' face. "Ah... I remember you now, Darky. You're the rebellious one... How was prison?"

Erebus didn't respond. He flew over to his right, landing in the sand so that Tartarus was between him and the oasis where the surrendered members of the Slayer Legion were being rounded up even as the battle still raged. "Let's end this already," he growled, ascending into the sky. "_Desolation Claw!_"

Cleansing light ripped from Erebus' hands towards Tartarus. "You really think that'll work?!" the proto super soldier taunted, flying into the air to avoid the beam. As the virus-busting radiance cleared, Tartarus rocketed towards him.

"_Cable Catcher!_" All ten claws shot out from Tartarus' gauntlets and planted themselves in Erebus' rubber armour. With a mighty yank of his buff arms, Tartarus jerked Erebus towards him. As the Cyberdramon flew against his will, the Paildramon was able to angle his spikes towards him.

Tartarus thrust his right spike towards Erebus' face, but the Cyberdramon snapped his head to the side to avoid the sharp spear. The tip grazed a few of his scales, but it was a trivial wound to him. Erebus saw the second spike incoming, but wasn't fast enough to prevent it from piercing into his shoulder. The wound burned and bled, forcing a pained snarl from Erebus before he delivered a solid karate chop to Tartarus' neck, knocking him back and bringing the bloody spike out.

In response, Tartarus started blasting away at Erebus with his hip cannon. The black dragon let out a roar and charged, through the beam bullets, at the proto super soldier. Erebus took the shaft of the gun in his hand and brutally ripped it off of Tartarus' hip. Raising his arm high into the air, the Cyberdramon bashed Tartarus across the face with his own gun before bringing it down on his head again.

Before Erebus could hit him a third time, Tartarus caught the gun in his hand and glared at him ferally. "You're going to pay for that," he hissed.

Erebus planted the sole of his foot into Tartarus' chest and forced him back before discarding the cannon to the sand below. He dropped to the ground and wrapped his cables around Erebus' ankle, bringing him down as well. When his foe landed on the sand, Tartarus retracted his claws before Erebus could disable any more of his weapons.

Kicking up sand in his wake, Tartarus charged towards the Cyberdramon. "Take this!" he yelled, thrusting a spike towards Erebus.

Erebus pivoted to the right and delivered a firm chop to Tartarus' elbow, buckling his arm. He then grabbed the his arm and hurled him over his shoulder with all of his might. While inverted, Tartarus fired his cables at Erebus. The metal cables wound around Erebus' right forearm. The Paildramon flipped over and landed on the ground, pulling. Erebus growled and flexed his arm, pulling in response.

Instead of resisting further, he dashed towards Tartarus and shoulder checked him before he could try to stab him with his spike. The proto super soldier's feet skidded through the sand as he managed to remain standing in the face of the impact. He withdrew the cables and ducked under Erebus' incoming slash. He then drove his fist into Erebus abdomen.

Erebus staggered back, feeling the force of his fist a second and third time. When Tartarus drew back his right arm for a fourth punch, he extended his wrist spike as far as it could go. He then thrust it forwards, hoping to finish him.

Hearing the 'shing' of metal, Erebus knew that he had to act. He jumped into a full backflip right as Tartarus drove the spike towards him. Erebus' clawed foot collided with Tartarus' chin, knocking the Paildramon up and back. Upon righting himself into a right-side up position, Erebus flapped his crimson wings forward and flew back until landing on the ground a good distance away from Tartarus.

"_Desolation Claw!_" he announced. Erebus tucked his arms in and brought his claws together as if holding an invisible ball as he built up the energy between his glowing talons.

"I don't think so! _Cable Catcher!_" Tartarus shouted. The five cables of his left hand cut through the air towards Erebus. The claws pierced into his right bicep and the cables wrapped around his arms and upper body, preventing him from aiming his attack at Tartarus. The Cyberdramon snarled angrily and struggled, knowing full well he had gotten himself into a disadvantageous position.

Tartarus grinned and walked towards him while keeping the cables taut and his wrist spike poised. "What's the matter? Having trouble utilizing your elite moves now?" he taunted, closing in on him confidently. "What a shame... Guess I'll put you out of your misery nice and fast then."

* * *

><p>Wromthrax fired a shell into Gapsar's chest, watching as flames exploded over the Gaiomon's armour. As the Avenger staggered back, a WarGreymon lunged at the Examon. He swung his right wing out and bashed the dragonman back with the Caledfwlch's chrome digizoid plating. Wromthrax flew up into the sky and punched a Pteramon out of the air.<p>

"_How did this happen?!_" he internally demanded, looking around at the losing battle. "_I warned Ishton about trusting Duroth. That slimy, progressivistic politician... Tartarus was right about taking him out when we had the chance._"

Gapsar glared up at Wromthrax from the ground. "Are you afraid to fight me down here?" he goaded.

The Examon took aim with the Ambrosius and smiled. "Afraid of _you_? Don't make me laugh, Avenger."

Gapsar grunted and crossed the Kikurin katanas. "_Gaia Reactor!_" he shouted. The atmospheric energy around him gathered between his blades. A large beam then surged from the Kikurin towards Wromthrax.

The red drake's wings quickly went into action, angling his body sideways and flapping to fly him out of the attack's line of fire. The Examon laughed as the beam passed beside him harmlessly, creating a shimmering glow on his armour. "Pathetic! _Pendragon's Glory!_"

As an emerald beam ripped from the lance's muzzle, something slammed into Wromthax's wings and sides, exploding and wreathing him in flames. The Examon snarled in pain and anger and spun around. In the distance, he saw a Cannondramon from the Palaeozoic Sovereignty, its two cannons aimed at him from afar.

Behind him, Gapsar was using this distraction to lunge into the air. "_Rinkazan!_" he shouted, slashing the twin katanas down.

Wromthrax glanced behind him a second too late, stifling a deep growl of pain as he felt the blades of light rake down his back and cut into his armoured wings. The Examon glowered and spun around, his wing knocking Gapsar's arms to the left. He locked his arms around Gapsar's and chomped down into what little of the samurai's neck he could reach beneath all the armour. The Examon's green eyes narrowed in anger as he flapped his wings and kept a tight hold on the wincing Avenger.

"D-Damn...!" Gapsar hissed in pain, feeling three of Wromthrax's teeth dig deeper in his neck. Despite his arms being pressed against his sides he was still able to move them a bit. With a grunt of effort, he dug the tip of his left Kikurin sword into the Examon's quadracep, eliciting a sound of pain from the victim.

Wromthrax continued flying upwards before suddenly inverting himself. They were about sixty feet above the ground now. "_Draconic Impact,_" he muttered through the hunk of bleeding scales he stubbornly held onto in his jagged teeth. His Caledfwlch wings tucked back and the two began to freefall. Gapsar struggled to get away, but he couldn't. They plummeted to the ground and when there was only ten feet left, Wromthrax let go of Gapsar and angled his wings.

The Gaiomon slammed into the sandy terrain while Wromthrax glided over the sand before coming to a stop. As Gapsar lay on the ground and groaned in pain, the Examon spat out his blood and approached the samurai with his lance in his hand. He raised the tip above Gapsar's head and showed him a toothy grin. "Like I said before: a traitor's death," he spoked, pressing one of his claws against the Ambrosius' trigger. "_Avalon's Gate_."

Wromthrax suddenly let out a sharp gasp as something massive plowed into his back and sent him barreling forwards onto the sand. Gapsar looked up to see the large body of a DinoRexmon bound over him and land on top of the Examon's back, pinning his crimson wings to the ground.

"R-Ranney," Gapsar coughed, slowly sitting up and collecting his katanas.

"That's twice in one day, Avenger. You owe me like the biggest supper after we get home," Ranney said with a wide grin. The DinoRexmon looked down at his prey who struggled beneath his weight.

"Get out of here and get your team in order, okay?" Ranney said. He then remembered his rank relative to Gapsar's. "Uh, 'sir', I mean. I'll take care of this guy."

Gapsar nodded and took off. Meanwhile, Wromthrax pulled his arms, along with his lance, out from under his pinned body and stuck his weapon up, aiming the Ambrosius at Ranney. "_Avalon's Gate!_" he said again, having been unable to execute it the first time. The shell that was locked in the gun's chamber shot out and slammed into Ranney's chin, causing his head to jerk upwards with a fiery blast and send the dinosaur staggering backwards.

Able to move his wings, Wromthrax became airborne once again, but Ranney at other ideas. The DinoRexmon dashed at him flying form and chomped down on the Examon's right wing, despite how much the chrome digizoid hurt his teeth to do so. Ranney jerked his head to the side, releasing Wromthrax and sending him into a spin. While oscillating in mid air, Wromthrax aimed the Ambrosius precisely at Ranney and fired, sending a laser surging towards the DinoRexmon.

The emerald beam sliced across Ranney's cheek, narrowing missing his eye. It burned his green scales and blood gushed down his neck, fueling his anger. The swift, raptor-like digimon lunged at him and kicked the red dragon out of the air with his toe claws, sending Wromthrax skidding across the ground with a wave of sand geysering up from the impact.

Now drawing laboured breaths, Wromthrax propped himself up on his lance to help him get to his feet. When he was sure he was able to stand independently, he raised his lance and fired a merciless shower of lasers and shells.

The fifteen foot dinosaur was unable to dodge all of the attacks due to his great size. The lasers burned his arms and chest. He growled in pain; he felt as if his whole body was on fire at this point. It sure looked to be the case since his body smoked with the attacks' residue.

Ranney expected Wromthrax to break in his attack at some point, which would allow Ranney to get away and make his own move. The Examon, however, was relentless. He continued to fire whatever ammunition he could, taking only short breaks to allow the Ambrosius to resupply.

Ranney cringed and staggered backwards as the attacks cut into his thick scales. "Let's see how you like this, you rebel worm. _Avalon's Gate!_" Wromthrax spoke. A shell exploded against the DinoRexmon's right leg, bursting on contact. From inside the shell came several grey, bladed fragments which dug into Ranney's upper right leg. The DinoRexmon let out a cry when he suddenly felt his entire right leg grow numb.

"Wh-what's going on?!" he stammered in fear and shock, catching himself from faceplanting by bracing with his right clawed forearm. "I can't feel my leg!"

Wromthrax chuckled smugly, flapping his broad wings and clutching the Ambrosius in his claws securely. "I had been saving that shell for somebody like your King, but I could tell that you were going to give me trouble," he said, staring at the crippled DinoRexmon. "It contains a paralyzing virus."

"_S_hit," Ranney whispered under his breath, trying to stand up but his numb, right leg buckled each time he tried.

"It's over now, lizard," Wromthrax explained, grinning. The Examon flapped his wings and kept the Ambrosius trained on the DinoRexmon.

With a mighty flap of the Caledfwlch, the Slayer Legion lieutenant charged the immobile DinoRexmon, flying steadily across the sand. He gradually picked up more and more speed, as if he were a knight jousting.

"Come on," Ranney grunted, trying to move, clawing at the ground with his left leg and hopping every so often only for his right leg to drag in the sand behind him. Compared to his usual speed, he was going at a snail's pace. With the way he was, he was basically just waiting for Wromthrax to skewer him.

The DinoRexmon growled with desperation as Wromthrax surged towards him. "_Ogre Flame!_" he shouted, unleashing a burning orb of fiery magma from his mouth.

Wromthrax saw this and remained calm. He flew up higher, tail and all, over the top of the incinerating attack, feeling its intense heat for no more than a second as they passed each other. The Examon pointed his lance and kept his claw against the trigger as he closed in on Ranney.

The Examon narrowed his eyes. "_I have you now,_"

Ranney placed all of his weight on his left leg and squatted down, using his tail for balance. "_Just because one leg doesn't move..._" he thought as a trickle of sweat dripped down his face.

"_Avalon's Gate!_" Wromthrax let out a roar of effort as plunged the dual-tipped lance forwards.

"_Splatter Hunting!_" Ranney countered.

The DinoRexmon extended his left leg as far as it could go, sending him into a jump aimed slightly to his left. He lunged into the air to meet Wromthrax's attack.

The two collided.

Ranney let out an anguished cry of pain as Wromthrax's lance pierced his scales and dug deep into his right thigh, causing blood to gush from the wound the more the Ambrosius burrowed into his flesh.

For a moment, Wromthrax had thought he had won. It was a second later that he felt the sickle-claw of Ranney's paralyzed right leg stab clear through his chest. It slowly emerged through the Examon's back, coated with blood.

Despite his right leg being paralyzed, Ranney could still use his left leg to jump and thus drag his right one through the air with him.

The DinoRexmon's strength and momentum was the greater of the two's so when the pair collided, he was sent forwards and the impaled Wromthrax was sent backwards with him. When Ranney landed, his right leg buckled and he inadvertently put all of his weight on the Examon as he crashed on top of him. His toe claw dug deeper and jerked upwards gruesomely until it had completely bisected Wromthrax's digicore.

The last thing Wromthrax did was give a winded gasp before being crushed under the dinosaur.

Ranney grimaced in pain as he pressed into the blood-stained sands, feeling the traces of Wromthrax's data float up all around him. He put his weight on his left leg and slowly hopped. He felt tingling sensations in his numb leg, but he doubted he could put pressure on it for awhile.

"D-Damnit..." he whispered, cringing as he pulled himself, not exactly in the most battle-ready state at that moment. "Have to find Strom..."

The dinosaur headed into the carnage. "_I promised I'd go back for you... I have your back, Strom._"

* * *

><p>A giant, sabre-like blade sliced through the side of an Imperialdramon Dragon Mode while a second blade, identical to the first, severed the dragon's dorsally-mounted cannon in two. Strom ripped the swords from the Slayer Legion soldier and raised them in front of him, taking on an offensive fighting stance.<p>

The Spinomon craned his head to look around the battlefield. There were only so many tactics one could execute in the cluster of a melee in which they were immersed. "Put more pressure on the south flank!" he commanded. "Take the crest of that dune so we can cut them off from their forces on the west side! We'll take this half and the salamanders can take out the other half!"

"Field Officer!" a Pteramon X shouted from overhead.

"What is it-Grah!" Strom was interrupted when a Tankdramon plowed into his cut-riddled body.

The draconic panzer pushed its treads on full throttle. Strom growled and pushed against the Tankdramon with his sword-bearing claw. His feet dug deeply into the sand to prevent the dragon from making any progress. The dinosaur glanced over the Dramon on reflex, making sure that he didn't have a signiflying bandana on him, even though he could have guessed that he was his enemy by the fact that he was attacking him.

Suddenly, the two chain guns on the Tankdramon aimed at him. "_Blast Gatling!_" the Tankdramon shouted. The machine guns started spinning and began to open fire on Strom. Shell casings cascaded from the Tankdramon's sides as the bullets impacted and ricocheted off Strom's chest. The mega level Spinomon had an extremely tough hide, but the Tankdramon's firepower was still enough to do damage to him.

Strom winced and staggered back as the bullets pounded against his scales. The ammo that hit his spikes and spines or merely glanced off of him exploded with sparks upon contact. "D-Damn it..." he rumbled through clenched teeth. "As if I'm going to be beaten by a mechanical freak show like you!"

He charged towards the Tankdramon and stabbed his two blades straight into the insides of the dramon's treads, jamming them and locking him in place. "Ba_s_tard!" the Tankdramon shouted, ceasing his machine gun fire. Instead, he pointed the two artillery cannons on his back towards Strom. "_Striver Cannon!_"

Strom quickly grabbed the two cannons and lifted them (and the Tankdramon slightly) upwards using all of his strength. The two cannons fired harmlessly over Strom's head and into the sky. The spinosaurus digimon growled at the Tankdramon, showing him the heat that was building up in his mouth. "My turn, buddy," he said. "_Blue Prominence!_"

An indomitable torrent of power surged from Strom's mouth and burned clear through the Tankdramon. The Spinomon dropped him and backed up several paces as the dragon panzer's munitions started exploding. Firework-like bursts of sparks detonated inside and outside the Tankdramon's body with a symphony of loud pops.

Strom drew a deep breath and glanced up at the Pteramon X who had hailed him. "You were free to jump in at any time, you know," he said dryly.

"Oh, I didn't want to intrude. You being an Avenger and all," the mechanical pterosaur replied.

"If you see me getting shot up by a crazed dragon-tank, intrude all you like. I'm not one of those overly proud, 'honour-in-battle-is-everything', glory-hog types," Strom responded.

"Understood. So, erm, Field Officer," the Pteramon X said.

"What? There's not a Darkdramon now, is there?" he asked with a roll of his eyes.

"There's an ace who's taking out entire platoons, sir!" the Pteramon X explained. "We could really use your help."

"An ace?" Strom asked, looking around the chaotic battleground. "Where?"

The dinosaur pointed with his head to direct Strom. "Over there. He's a Slayerdramon, sir."

Strom followed his gaze and looked out over the fighting to see a Slayerdramon take out three Palaeozoic Sovereignty soldiers with one slash of his sword and go on to kill a fellow Spinomon with his _Shoryu Slash_. Strom glared at him and snarled deeply.

"Ishton..." he murmured.

Without another thought, Strom started dashing across the sand towards him. An AeroVeedramon tried to get in his way to engage him, but Strom shoulder-checked him, impaling the dragon on his shoulder spike. The Spinomon grunted indifferently at the collision and continued sprinting. During his charge, he drew two more blades from his spine to replace the other ones he lost, knowing he would have to have swords of his own to fight Ishton with any modicum of success.

The Slayerdramon beheaded a Tyrannomon and turned around to see Strom running towards him. "Strom..." he muttered in a growl. He turned to face him completely.

Strom closed in on him and dipped his neck down, opening his mouth wide try and bite Ishton to death. The Slayerdramon rolled out of the way just in time, narrowing missing being crushed by Strom's foot as he did. Somersaulting to a kneeling position, Ishton swung his arm behind him and caused the blades of the Fragarach to cut into Strom's tail.

With a wave of sand erupting in front of him, Strom skidded to a stop and turned around, his blades prepared to strike. Ishton stood up and turned towards him, locking eyes with his old acquintance.

"Well, Strom," he spoke coldly. "Looks like fate brought us together once again."

"No," Strom growled. "_You_ brought us together. _You're_the cause of all this, aren't you?!"

Ishton smirked and shook his head condescendingly. "You Avengers... You're always so quick to point the finger at us Dramon, but never at yourselves."

Strom fired a river of plasma from his mouth. Ishton flew into the air and eyed the ground below him as the azure explosion turned the sand into glassy crater. The Fragarach sung as the metal cut horizontally though the air towards Strom. The battle-damaged, orange dinosaur raised the blunt end of his right blade to block the attack. While sparks erupted from the collision, the Spinomon pitched his sword down vertically, but Ishton veered out of the blade's path.

"_Tenryu Slash!_" Ishton shouted, bringing his sword through the scales of the arm that narrowly missed him.

Hissing in pain, Strom bashed him out of the air with the blunt edge of his right blade. As soon as Ishton impacted the sand, Strom brought his foot down powerfully in an attempt to crush him. Ishton hastily raised his hands to keep his foot at bay, but after only a few seconds, his muscles were trembling with sheer effort and exertion.

"Ourselves?" Strom asked, putting more weight onto his leg. His strength forced Ishton's elbows into the ground until he could feel the sole of his foot against Ishton's sword and scales. "You're the one that attacked us without any warning or reason! It's because of you that good friends and comrades of mine are now dead! You guys even killed innocent civilians! And why? Because Gotungir died in a _battle_ that the _Dramon Empire_started?!"

Ishton grunted and held against Strom's raw strength, lifting his foot slightly before it could begin to crush him, but finding it to be a losing battle. "How could someone so cynical... be so naive...? You think that every single soldier holds the same beliefs as the ones... who started the war?" he spoke in a growl. "Many of us Dramon fight for the ones we care about, just like... many of you do. This is not a black and white war, Strom..."

Strom growled in anger and pressed down, now starting to crush Ishton between his foot and the ground. "You hypocrite! You accept that not all of us so-called "Rebels" are monsters, but you're _still_taking your anger out on us! Hell, it was an Avenger that killed Gotungir; take it out on me: an Avenger! That's fine! But the Palaeozoic Sovereignty wasn't even part of the Rebels until the Dramon Empire attacked it! Why attack us?!"

"That was just... strategy..." Ishton grunted, pressing his blade against the bottom of Strom's foot. "A stepping stone..."

"You aren't justified at all," Strom spoke, narrowing his eyes.

"_Shoryu Slash!_" Ishton's voice resounded and draconic energy erupted from underneath Strom's foot, burning it and forcing the Spinomon to recoil in pain.

Strom growled and swung his blades down towards the Slayerdramon. Ishton whipped his sword over his head.

"_Koryu Slash!_" The Fragarach wrapped around the two guillotine-like blades. Ishton then yanked his arm to the right with enough strength to rip the swords from Strom's claws and send them into the nearby sand.

Wasting no time, Ishton jumped up and slashed the Fragarach through the scales on Strom's chest and followed up with a powerful kick that was enough to send the dinosaur twice Ishton's size to stagger back a couple paces. There was an angry, green glint in Strom's eyes upon recovering from the assault.

"All this... All this chaos and destruction... It was just for revenge..." Strom spoke coldly, the pain from the slash in his scales only serving to intensify his anger. "You're pathetic..."

Ishton laughed and charged at him. "Now who's the hypocrite?!" he demanded, jumping up with the Fragarach held high over his head so he could slash Strom again. Before the dragon man could get near, Strom balled his claws into a fist and drove them into Ishton with enough power to send him hurdling in reverse.

The azure dragon howled in pain, pretty sure that one of his ribs had fractured under the force of the impact. Despite this, he was able to catch himself before hitting the ground and managed to stay airborne. The Slayedramon seethed and glared at Strom.

"You joined the Rebels to wage war on the Dramon Empire, all because you lost a few scales to an interrogation. I, on the other hand, lost everything that I hold dear!" he shouted, charging Strom with loathing and determination. "Tell me, Strom! How could you _possibly_have the right to judge me!?"

"Hm, I wonder!?" Strom retaliated, getting down on all fours and arching his row of blades towards Ishton. "A rightfully angry torture victim versus a butthurt soldier who wants to destroy everyone who's not a Dramon just because your superior officer died! 'How could I', indeed! _Sonic Slash Rain!_"

Ishton roared and his sword became a brilliant blue hue. "_Shoryu Slash!_" A glowing, winged dragon erupted from the Fragarach and soared through the air towards the oncoming attack. Strom watched, stunned, as all of the blades he sent shooting towards Ishton melted in the draconic beam's wake.

"_Blue Prominence!_" Strom countered, knowing that he needed to act quickly. The beam that ripped from his mouth collided with the sapphire dragon that soared towards him. The two attacks struck and exploded in a cobalt blast, sending tendrils of fire and power exploding between them. Ishton burst through the fading blue residue of the fizzling attacks and tore towards Strom.

"_S_hit!" Strom swore, ejecting a single blade from his back while in the process of standing upright. The blade cut through the air and sliced into the muscle just above Ishton's left collar, passing by his head and causing blood to spurt out and leak down his blue scales. The Slayerdramon growled in pain and kept charging at Strom. He slashed the Fragarach down on the dinosaur, but Strom caught the blade in his scarred hand. A blistering pain ignited when the serrated edges cut into the dinosaur's palm, dragging a cry of pain from his throat.

"Don't act so superior!" Ishton growled. "The only difference between you and I is through perception! Unless you can honestly tell me that you would react differently after your closest friend had been killed."

Strom clenched his teeth and swiped at Ishton with his other set of claws, but Ishton avoided the swing and swept the Fragarach across Strom's shoulder. "Well, Strom?! Can you?!"

The Spinomon stared at Ishton for a moment, thinking about the question that his enemy had posed to him. He remembered how violently he reacted upon realizing that Ranney had given him up to the Dramon and how hopeless he felt when he thought that Braon might have been the traitor feeding info to the enemy before he found out it was Goliath. If either one of them were to die... Strom didn't want to think about it. He honestly couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't go on a rampage of his own, trying to kill whoever killed them. He knew the sort of wrath he was capable of feeling...

Strom grimaced and turned his head aside. Ishton responded with a level stare. "That's what I thought..."

"Even if that's true..." he whispered, turning to glare at the Slayerdramon. "I wouldn't kill innocents."

"Oh, wouldn't you?" Ishton replied. "Tell me that when you're in my situation. Besides, I had nothing to do with the destruction of those villages."

"Your plan, your army: your responsibility," Strom growled. "_Blue Prominence!_"

"_Tenryu Slash!_" Ishton responded, slashing vertically through the oncoming beam. Flanked on both sides by the split plasma beam, Ishton held steadfast against Strom's relentless attack.

Strom growled in frustration and spun around, smacking his tail across Ishton's body and intensifying the agonizing pain in the Slayerdramon's chest. Ishton was tossed through the air and slammed into the wounded body of a Groundramon. Wincing in pain, he pulled himself from the dragon and looked up to see a salvo of blades raining down upon them

Snarling with effort, Ishton executed a graceful sword dance to parry the swords before it could hit either himself or his wounded comrade. He knocked each blade to the side successfully, sparing both himself and the Groundramon.

Ishton propelled himself into the air, racing back to meet Strom before the Spinomon could use his ranged effectiveness to his advantage once again. He glared at his foe as he flew, his body like an azure comet of wrath and determination.

"I hope Ranney's watching this, Strom!" he called out to him, closing in on him. "Because these next few moments are going to be the last ones of your life!"

* * *

><p>Erebus snarled as he attempted to free himself from the cords restraining his arms. As strong and flexible as the Cyberdramon was, he couldn't manage to escape. He glared at Tartarus, who walked casually towards him. The Paildramon admired his right arm spike as he approached, keeping the cables taut with his other arm.<p>

"Like I said, I'll finish you quick, Darky," Tartarus told him, dashing forward. "_Spiking Strike!_"

The Cyberdramon grunted and darted to the right to avoid the sharp metal spike that was thrust towards him. Erebus gave a snarl and shoulder-checked him, digging the tip of one of his elbow spikes into him at the same time. Crying out in pain as the spike's tip entered and exited his side, Tartarus stumbled onto his back and increased the slack on the cables.

Erebus dashed forwards and kicked his toe claws into Tartarus' side, drawing blood from the proto super soldier's scales there was well. Tartarus rolled onto his front and lunged to his feet. He swung around and plunged his spike into Erebus' upper leg. The two then bolted forwards and headbutted one other. Their helmets screeched as the metal collided and scraped. They both recoiled, but Tartarus was quicker to recover. He lunged at Erebus and drove his free fist into the end of Erebus' snout.

The Cyberdramon stumbled back but was halted by the cords around him when they became too taut. He snarled and ran at Tartarus, lunging into a jump kick. Erebus' foot pounded into Tartarus' face, causing the blue dragon's head to snap back. With a sneer, the proto super soldier jumped into the air and aimed two fingers at Erebus.

"_Cable Catcher!_" The two claws shot towards Erebus and the thick wires wrapped around Erebus' neck tightly. The Cyberdramon let out a gargled choke and tried to reach up to grab the wires, but couldn't due to the other ones around him. Tartarus grinned darkly and pulled harder, cutting off Erebus' air supply.

Erebus ran towards him in order to loosen cords, but Tartarus flew upwards to make sure that didn't happen. The Cyberdramon gritted his teeth and flapped his two upper wings, following him into the sky.

"Determined b_a_stard," Tartarus murmured, looking down at the ascending dragon. The proto super soldier started to drop. "Looks like I'll just have to break your neck."

Tartarus drove his foot into Erebus' face, sending him plummeting towards the ground with cords connected to Tartarus' gauntlets becoming tighter. The Cyberdramon angled his body so that the cables around his upper body became taut before the ones around his neck, sparing his neck from being broken. Tartarus was pulled down slightly and the dragon swore. "Forget this!" he growled, becoming frustrated at his inability to kill a simple Ultimate level.

He retracted all of his cables and dove down towards Erebus. "_Cable Catcher!_"

Erebus raised his claws to defend himself, but Tartarus was already plunging his wrist spikes towards him. A roar of pain ripped from Erebus' mouth when the spears dug into his shoulders and sent him slamming into the ground.

A grin crept onto Tartarus' face. He landed on top of Erebus, his feet forcefully crushing Erebus' wrists beneath him. He leaned forward and pressed the two spikes against Erebus' throat. The Cyberdramon merely growled in defiance.

"See?" Tartarus asked. "You may be good, Darky, but I've never lost a one-on-one duel. There's a reason why I have the highest kill count in my class."

He pressed the spikes against Erebus' throat harder, testing the resistance and angle. The Cyberdramon remained calm. Behind his helmet, he glanced over to the right, where a shadow was quickly passing over them.

Tartarus grinned and pulled the spikes back before driving them forwards. "Wha-?!"

"_HEAVY TAILHOOK!_"

A massive slab of metal slammed into Tartarus like a runaway train, bashing him off of Erebus in less than a second. As the Paildramon skidded across the sand twenty feet away, Erebus stared in disbelief. The owner of the tail was a Deckerdramon of the Slayer Legion, evident to the Cyberdramon by the crocodile's lack of a crimson buff.

Drykar watched with veiled satisfaction as Tartarus flailed through the air and rolled across the ground. His data continued to slowly leave his body, but he was still determined. Drykar looked over at Erebus and gave him a short nod.

"_Deckerdra-Launcher!_"

Tartarus growled and seethed as he staggered to his feet, his livid red eyes glaring at Drykar. "DRYKAR!" he screamed, his voice filled with primal hatred. "YOU DAMN BASTA-RAHH!"

He was interrupted by a hail of missiles exploding all around him. The Paildramon's body was tossed hither and yon by the earth-wracking, fiery detonations. Tartarus was sent sprawling across the sand when the barrage finally let up. His body smoked and was riddled with shrapnel wounds, but he still stood to his feet, refusing to give in.

"Dry...kar... You're dead..." he hissed, turning towards him.

Erebus got between Tartarus and Drykar, glaring into the Paildramon's hellish eyes. "You're my enemy," the Cyberdramon spoke resolutely.

Tartarus growled in annoyance and charged at his draconic foe. "Why. Won't. You. Die?!" Tartarus roared, stabbing his spikes forward between each syllable. Erebus backpedalled, ducking and weaving beneath each thrust.

The Cyberdramon stopped and drove his fist into Tartarus' chin in a strong uppercut, knocking the proto super soldier off his feet.

"Damn you," the Paildramon spat as blood dripped out of his mouth. He outstretched his wings and aimed his hand. "_Cable Catcher!_" Once again, his claws shot out of his gauntlets towards Erebus, but this time Erebus was ready.

Seeing the wire-guided talons flying towards his face, Erebus swiftly sidestepped. The wires passed by him and the claws stabbed into the sand. The Cyberdramon wrapped his claws tightly around the three wires beside him. He then yanked on them hard, sending Tartarus falling towards him sharply. The Paildramon could barely react in response to the glowing claws that headed towards him.

"_Cyber Nail!_" Erebus growled. The data-eradicating talons ripped through Tartarus' shoulder and dragged themselves across his chest.

Tartarus roared in pain as his scales bled and he breathed laboured, furious breaths. As he passed over Erebus, he stabbed his spike through Erebus' left arm, freeing his cables from the Cyberdramon's clutches. He then drove his knee into the dragon's face and placed his foot on Erebus' shoulder, propelling himself off of him.

Erebus swung around, attempting to slash at him, but was greeted by a tail whipping across his face. Tartarus pivoted to face Erebus and landed on the ground. "_Spiking Strike!_" he roared, driving his spike towards Erebus' chest.

"_Cyber Nail!_" the Dramon Empire warrior countered. Erebus dropped into a kneeling position and stabbed his glowing claws into Tartarus' palm as it and the spike passed over his head. His blade-like talons ripped through the gauntlet's armour, sending metallic fragments flying off as the claws entered Tartarus' flesh and ripped along his forearm.

Blood gushed from the badly damaged gauntlet and Tartarus cried out in agony. Erebus grunted and drove his other fist into Tartarus' chest, sending him staggering backwards.

"D-Damn you," Tartarus hissed, walking backwards as he tried to put distance between himself and Erebus. "This can't be happening!"

The Paildramon's sanguine eyes narrowed balefully at the Cyberdramon. "You can't beat me... Nobody can beat me!" he shouted, stepping back swiftly as Erebus made to follow him.

The Cyberdramon calmly walked towards him, his claws wreathed with blue and white energy.

Tartarus' eyes widened ferally and he raised his claws towards Erebus. "Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! DIE! _Cable Catcher!_"

His two hands erupted with cables, all ten of his claws ripping through the air towards Erebus. The Cyberdramon saw this and calmly stopped in the face of the assault of claws and cables.

The cables interweaved and soared as the claws blitzed him, poised to impale. With a collected demeanour, Erebus turned his body ninety degrees to the right, allowing five of the claws and their cables to pass harmlessly behind him while the remaining five passed in front of him. Erebus then raised his left arm high, taking the five cords behind him under his arm. Next, the Cyberdramon did the same with his right arm, the five cables in front gathering together under his right armpit.

"What?!" Tartarus demanded.

Erebus turned to face Tartarus and wrapped the two gathered masses of cables around his extended forearms. His clawed feet dug into the ground and Erebus leaned back slightly, locking the metal cords in place.

"D-Damnit!" the Paildramon swore. He tried to pull back his wires, but Erebus gripping them in his arms prevented him from doing so. He then tried wrenching them back with all of his might.

The Cyberdramon's feet dug into the sand as he was initially pulled a few inches by Tartarus' strength, but he kept his biceps pressed against his sides and held firm against his enemy's resistance. The tables had turned and now Tartarus was the one whose mobility was limited. Tartarus tried adding more slack to his cables to back up, but only gained a few feet before the cords reached their end. He made the mistake of shooting them all so recklessly.

Erebus bowed his head, gritting his teeth at the strain on his arms. He looked down at his claws and slowly brought them close together in front of him. White energy flickered between them.

From his position away from the Cyberdramon, Tartarus could see a tiny twinkle of erasing power. His eyes widened and he pulled desperately, trying to pull from the air, and when that didn't work, landing back on the ground, digging his feet in the sand and pulling with all of his might. With his fingers extended, he couldn't activate the mechanism that unlocked the gauntlets from around his wrist.

Erebus would not be moved.

"This can't be happening!" Tartarus shouted, his voice incredulous and utterly frantic as he tried to pull away. "I can't die! I live for fighting! I can't lose to somebody like _you_!"

The Paildramon's dark, blood-hued eyes glared at Erebus in unstable desperation. "You! You're- I won't lose to you! I've never lost a one-on-one duel! This can't be happening, damn it! I'M A PROTO SUPER SOLDIER!"

The black dragons' claws gathered raging, virus-busting power between them. Erebus looked up at him with a cold, collected gaze.

"...You are not anything," Erebus spoke. "**_DESOLATION..._**"

"No," Tartarus whispered.

"**_CLAW!_**"

The white beam ripped from Erebus' claws like lightning. It crackled as it flew in between the lengths of the five cables that flanked each side of the beam. Tartarus ran ahead of him to try sprint to the side, but he was too late. The thick torrent of power homed in of the proto super soldier.

Tartarus let out a roar as the beam ripped into his chest and abdomen. The exterminating blast pulsed against his scales and tore through him, surging out Tartarus' back and into the sand behind him. The bottom half of his digicore was completely annihilated, as was all of his data where the _Desolation Claw_ripped through him.

Erebus' beam subsided and the Cyberdramon's claws hacked through the cables around his arms, severing them from their owner. Released from Erebus, Tartarus fell on to his back and blood gushed out from the massive hole in Tartarus' chest. The Paildramon hit the sand hand and gurgled as blood coursed into his mouth and poured onto the ground. His form was nearly cut in half by the blast; Tartarus' limbs twitched, but he managed to find the willpower to flip onto his front and start dragging himself through the sand.

"C-...an't... d-die..." he gargled, his voice raspy. The proto super soldier slowly scampered further, a trail of blood and data pouring in his wake. A large amount of crimson fluid trickled out of his mouth and dripped down his neck as he crawled, wide-eyed. "W-waste... of everything... been through... t-to die..."

The sound of an engine rumbling slowly grew louder. It was then that a large shadow gradually overtook him from the feet up. Tartarus looked over his blood-drenched shoulder to see a heavily wounded Deckerdramon looming over him. His face turned to one of sheer terror.

Drykar narrowed his eyes to glare down at the mortally wounded Paildramon in front of him. Despite the data and blood leaking out of his body, Drykar slowly closed in, Tartarus in his sights.

Tartarus let out a pained noise as more blood dripped from his mouth and body. "You..." he hissed. "S-said... you wouldn't... kill a fellow Dramon..."

Drykar glared into Tartarus' wide eyes, showing him just how much hatred he felt towards him. "You, Tartarus Dreadmor, are not a Dramon..." he spoke with an agonized voice. "You're a monster..."

With those words, Drykar turned and drove towards Tartarus. The Paildramon saw Drykar's massive treads heading his way and dug his clawless palms through the sand, scrambling as fast as his ravaged body would allow, in an attempt to get away. It wasn't long until Drykar caught up to him.

Tartarus panted furiously and looked over his shoulder while dragging himself only to see the treads reach his feet. "N-no! NO! N-!"

A hellish scream ripped from Tartarus' throat as the Deckerdramon's massive weight crushed the Paildramon's feet and legs underneath his treads. The primal howl continued as Drykar made his way onto Tartarus' back, squashing what was left of the digicore under the tonnes of steel. The sounds of shattering and squishing were drowned out by the sound of Drykar's engine. The final thing to be crushed was the proto super soldier's fractured red helmet, which shattered into several pieces before evaporating into data.

Drykar looked down with a grimace as the data soared up from under his treads. He noticed that his treads were the next to scatter into millions of data particles. The Deckerdramon shut his tearful eyes softly and smiled.

"It looks like it's my time as well..." he whispered, a tear dripping down his face as he gazed contently into the sky. Drykar relaxed his legs and rested his underbelly against the warm sand. Next, he rested his chin on the grains and smiled softly.

"Elle... Celia..." he spoke lovingly. "I'll see you soon..."

Drykar closed his eyes.

"_I love you both..._"

His form slowly dispersed in a massive cloud of data. Drykar's data billowed into the blue sky and scattered, finding peace amongst the clouds.

* * *

><p>Ishton snarled savagely as his sword clashed against Strom's blade once again. The Slayer Legion was losing. More and more Slayer Legion soldiers seemed to have disappeared each time he looked around. He had been sure that the plan would work. The Slayerdramon cursed Duroth and Arado. He cursed the Avenger in front of him as well.<p>

"You stupid lizard!" he growled, glaring into Strom's eyes while grinding the blade of the Fragarach against Strom's sword in struggle. "You don't understand true pain, do you?! You only _think_you do!"

"Don't tell me what I don't understand!" Strom snapped back, driving his clawed fist into Ishton's body. His sword then hacked through the scales on Ishton's right arm, cutting deeply. Ishton glared in pain and anger and swept his sword horizontally

Blood emerged from Strom's bicep when the golden blade exited his scales. "D-Damn it," the Spinomon snarled. "_Blue Prominence!_" He spat a beam of power from his maw, but Ishton flew to the side and charged at Strom, dipping down to avoid the blast. He then flew up and pounded his fist into Strom's chin, snapping the dinosaur's mouth shut and forcing his head to jerk upwards and fire the plasma into the sky.

Ishton slashed the Fragarach into Strom's collar. "Right! So Ranney betrayed you to us! Why don't you cry about it a little more?!" he mocked.

"Look who's talking!" Strom roared, ripping his claws across Ishton's chest using his free hand. "All you've done is whine about Gotungir's death! He's gone; get over it! This campaign is just one big, massive temper tantrum!"

The Slayerdramon gritted his teeth as his chest burned red with fresh blood. "At least Ranney's still alive! Or perhaps he didn't make it through this battle!"

Strom grunted and whipped the blade in his right hand towards him. Ishton slashed his sword and knocked the blade to the side. "_Shoryu Slash!_" While seeing Strom draw another spike from his back, Ishton slashed his blade and send a wyvern of sapphire might surging towards the Spinomon.

Seeing the blast of energy soaring towards him, Strom quickly raised the broad side of his blade in front of the attack's path. He held the piece of metal with both claws as the attack slammed into it, nearly sending him backwards. The power split and flowed away from the blade in several directions as it fought against it. Strom winced as one of the tendrils burned across his forearm.

When the attack subsided, Strom lowered his blade and gasped upon seeing Ishton right in front of him, charging him. He slashed with his blade but Ishton flew up and wrapped the Fragarah around Strom's arm to cut into his scales.

Strom roared and unleashed a blast of plasma from his mouth which slammed into Ishton's armoured legs and melted the exterior metal. Ishton grunted and released his sword from around Strom's arm to attempt a _Koryu Slash_on Strom's neck.

The dinosaur saw the sword whipping towards him and knew that Ishton was trying to coil it around his neck to decapitate him. Strom ducked his head and winced when the blade cut across his cheek, but was thankful that the attack missed. The Spinomon snarled and charged forwards in a ramming motion. His massive shoulder spike pierced into Ishton's exposed side.

With pain and anger wracking his body, the Slayerdramon recoiled in the air and slammed the blunt side of the Fragarach down on Strom's snout, sending the Spinomon onto his knees. Ishton panted and hissed, glaring at Strom. "You and I are one and the same, Strom," he heaved. "Despite your wretched species, you have the temperment of a true Dramon."

"Don't insult me!" Strom spat, blood dribbling from his mouth. "_Sonic Slash Rain!_" He unleashed a savage barrage of blades towards Ishton, but the Slayerdramon swooped under his angle of fire and shouted '_Shoryu Slash!_', releasing another beam from his sword.

"_Blue Prominence!_" Strom countered, retaliating with a torrent of his own.

The two azure attacks passed each other in the air before heading towards their targets. Ishton's draconic blast burned into Strom's leg left arm, forcing the dinosaur to collapse and land on his face. Strom's beam grazed Ishton's side where he had been stabbed by the Spinomon's shoulder spike. Ishton unleased a cry of pain as the scales there were obliterated.

Strom propped himself up on his uninjured leg and looked up to see a livid Ishton charging at him with his sword. The Spinomon nervously winced and raised his blade to block the attack. The two steel weapons clashed and rebounded off each other.

Ishton roared, "Strom, you...!"

"_Ogre Flame!_"

A giant orb of fire blazed a path through the air towards the Slayerdramon. Ishton turned around and sliced the Fragarach down the middle of the fireball, yelling, "_Tenryu Slash!_"

The blazing globe exploded and scattered in a flurry of embers and magma. Ishton flew backward and hissed, glaring through the fire. As the heat subsided, Strom looked over as well and saw Ranney limping towards him. The DinoRexmon's right leg was coated with blood and he favoured his left, but he had a resolve in his step.

"R-Ranney," Strom exclaimed.

"Tch. So you're alive, after all!" Ishton hissed, turning to face him.

"Your subordinates really suck, Fish-tin," Ranney barked, glaring as he hobbled towards the two. "They're so easy to kill!"

The Slayerdramon growled and flew towards Ranney. "I'm glad you arrived!" he yelled.

"_Ogre Flame!_" Ranney retorted, greeting him with another fire ball. When he saw Ishton dipping under its path, the DinoRexmon charged as fast as he could without tripping under his numb and wounded leg. The Slayerdramon easily avoided the inferno, but could do nothing when Ranney lunged into the air and headbutted him into the sky.

Ishton gasped at the blow to his damaged rib, but righted his draconic body and dove back towards the landing dinosaur. The dragonman hacked his sword through Ranney's back with enough force from the fall to cut through his tough scales and dig into the muscle. Ranney cried out in pain and nearly collapsed, but forced himself to stand up in spite of his protesting limbs. He jumped forward, turned around and released an _Ogre Flame_towards Ishton who landed where Ranney had previously been.

The cobalt dragon swore and jumped backwards. The fiery blast slammed into the ground just in front of Ishton and sent fire and heat washing over him. When the blaze cleared, Ishton saw Ranney lunging at him with his elongated toe claws. The Slayerdramon swung the Fragarach deftly and parried both of the claws, screwing up the dinosaur's landing stance in the process. Ishton then went into a roll between Ranney's legs as the DinoRexmon tripped and crashed into the sand.

Ranney quickly scrambled to stand himself up. He turned around only to see the Fragarach hacking towards him. A cry escaped his mouth as the sword cut deeply into his chest before exiting with drops of blood in the Fragarach's wake.

In immense pain, Ranney collapsed to the ground, grimacing. He found himself unable to stand up.

"Ranney!" Strom cried out with worry. The Spinomon attempted to hobble towards them, but his wounded leg gave way and buckled, bringing him down to his knee. Strom grimaced helplessly. He couldn't use either of his ranged attacks without endangering Ranney.

Ishton turned towards the downed DinoRexmon for a moment. "If there are no more interruptions..." he spoke, narrowing his eyes at him. "Now you have to watch, Ranney. Watch as I kill him."

"You spiteful ba_s_tard," Ranney hissed in a pained grimace. Again, the DinoRexmon tried to move, but couldn't.

The Slayerdramon turned his back to him, his tattered and burnt cape fluttering in the light breeze. Ishton then ran towards Strom and propelled himself in the air. He shot towards Strom drawing the Fragarach back.

Strom grunted and unleashed an intense beam from his mouth as Ishton closed in on his face. Ishton swiftly ducked under it and swung his sword, but Strom quickly blocked the slash with the blade in his right hand.

The dinosaur raised his left arm to reach over his shoulder and grab another of the blades from his back, but the dragon knight cut his blade across Strom's arm, halting the action. He then slashed diagonally down towards Strom's neck, but the Spinomon arched his shoulder spike so the Fragarach hit and wrapped around that instead.

Strom then decided it was his turn to go on the offense, swiping his blade towards Ishton. Seeing this, Ishton yanked on his sword entwined around the spike to pull himself towards his enemy and dodge the attack. He landed with feet on Strom's neck, freed his sword, and then propelled himself off.

He slashed the Fragarach at Strom once again, but the dinosaur raised his blade to block it. The sound of the two blades colliding was like a spark-infused screech. Ishton glared into Strom's eyes – the Spinomon's passionate, emerald eyes.

"Those eyes..." Ishton spoke, glaring at him with just as much passion and ferocity. "You definitely have the spirit and passion of a dragon inside you. You should be able to understand these feelings I have. What a waste."

"Shut up!" Strom roared, swinging his left hand down and bashing his claws onto Ishton's body.

Ishton grunted in pain and was thrown towards the ground. The Slayerdramon landed on the ground on his feet, bending his legs to absorb the shock, and then rebounded upwards back at Strom.

The Spinomon's green eyes widened upon seeing the Fragarach descend on him. It was too quick for him to do anything.

There was a flash of red and roar of pain that ripped from Strom's throat. The blade sliced into his chest and sent the massive dinosaur crashing down onto his bladed back like a giant tree falling in the forest.

Strom landed on his back, his spine and blades digging into the ground. The fallen Avenger groaned hopelessly. His exposed, wound-riddled chest expanded and contracted rapidly.

Ishton landed in front of the dinosaur calmly. He knew that he couldn't win this battle – the Slayer Legion was all but decimated now - but if he could take down this Avenger... If he could just take down Strom... He would settle for that.

The Slayedramon walked towards the Avenger, resting the Fragarach on his shoulder as he did. Strom weakly lifted his head and looked down his body as Ishton.

"You still won't accept it, will you?" Ishton asked, pacing towards him. "That the Avengers and Slayer Legion are the same in ideology. That you and I are basically the same."

"I'm... not like you..." Strom breathed, narrowing his eyes defiantly.

Ishton grinned and jumped up onto Strom's chest and raised the Fragarach high over his head, ready to strike and end Strom once and for all.

"Face it, Strom!" he shouted victoriously. "You're angry, bitter and alone! _Just like me!_"

Ishton's smirk disappeared upon noticing a shadow cast over him from behind.

"No... You're wrong..." a voice whispered passionately.

Strom's eyes widened.

The voice spoke again. "...He's _never_alone..."

Ishton swiftly looked over his right shoulder to see Ranney's head swoop down from above with his mouth opened wide. Before he could move, Ishton felt Ranney's jagged, knife-like teeth dig into his unarmoured chest, back and shoulder. The DinoRexmon chomped down, his teeth digging deep through Ishton's blue scales. Ranney then jerked his head upwards and sent Ishton's body flying high into the sky.

"Now, Strom!" Ranney told him.

Strom opened his maw wide and azure steam seeped from his nostrils and throat.

"_Blue Prominence!_" he roared. The plasma beam ripped violently from his throat and stormed through the air, the cobalt power swelling as it streaked towards the sky.

Ishton stopped in the air and watched as the attack surged towards him in a merciless onslaught. He didn't try to run and he didn't try to protect himself. He merely observed the rushing beam with tranquil resignation.

The Slayerdramon felt the heat of the blast against his body as it closed in on him. Ishton slowly closed his eyes and accepted the cobalt beam, submissive when it slammed into his equally blue body. The power enveloped the dragon and surged against his form as it engulfed him.

"Gotungir..." he whispered calmly. Meanwhile, the energy roared and tore at him while he bravely held against the crushing attack.

Within the azure funeral pyre, Ishton opened his eyes and smiled softly. "Now I can be with you forever... Master..."

And then the blazing power and pressure overtook Ishton and obliterated him...


	10. Epilogue: The Scars of Friendship

_**Epilogue: The Scars of Friendship**_

The stars twinkled over the tranquil desert sky. Amidst the ebon stratosphere, two moons sent their rays of cool light down upon the dry landscape. The sea of sand was restful and still. The sounds of battle had been silenced for hours.

It had been a decisive victory for the combined forces of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty and the Dramon Empire. The Slayer Legion had been decimated by the turn of events and, while determined, simply couldn't overcome the combined might which crushed them from both sides. The prisoners who surrendered prior to the Dramon Empire's engagement in battle were spared the charge of treason and kept separate from the prisoners who had only surrendered after the Slayer Legion was decimated.

In what was once a battlefield, the two armies organized. Each side formed rank and gathered their wounded. Despite grudgingly aiding one another, the two camps remained more or less divided with some tension still present between them. The Palaeozoic Sovereignty took their troops to one end of the sandy plain and the Dramon Empire gathered to the other.

Between the two armies, on the battle scarred land, were the bigwigs from each side. Alongside them were the added party of the Rebel commanders and the Avengers who had been dispatched as soon as the word of a battle got out.

Gathered there were High Councilor Duroth, Lord Protector Arado, King Aegyptu, Commander Arahon Alpha, Commander Braon, Ajax Ouranos and Osiris Soultaker, among others.

"So, you're telling me that you guys knew nothing about this?" Aegyptu asked, narrowing his eyes at Duroth and Arado.

"That's not entirely true," Duroth admitted, calmly gazing back at the dinosaur king. "We were fortunate enough to receive the information of the rebellion via somebody who was approached by the ringleader and asked to join him. Luckily, he remained loyal to the Dramon Empire and told me everything. As soon as Arado and I heard, we spoke to the Council and convinced them to mobilize the military and send them down here to quash the rebel sect. I apologize that we weren't swifter, but it takes time to mount an offensive, _especially_ after our forces had been crippled only weeks ago."

Arado nodded stoically and interjected, "We're sorry if we overstepped our bounds by entering your territory once again, but we felt that these dissidents were our responsibility. We couldn't afford to have them tarnish the name of the newly reformed Dramon Empire and send us all plummeting back into the inferno of war." The MailBirdramon craned his head up at Aegyptu. "...You don't think we had a hand in this, do you? If we had, we wouldn't have sent our troops to deal with the invaders; you can't imagine how hard it was to sell this decision to the Dramon public. I can't say I enjoyed having fresh produce thrown at me prior to my departure."

"You're right, of course," King Aegyptu mumbled. "As much as I hate to admit it, if the Lord Protector and your armies hadn't arrived, we would have lost many more soldiers than we had..."

"Well, _I'm_ just relieved that this didn't escalate into something far more ugly," Braon chuckled. "I have to say, I was a little worried all those hours of meticulous peace negotiations had went down the drain."

Arado grinned. "That would have been the greatest crime of all," he spoke.

"No," Duroth said, his voice stern and serious. "The greatest crime is that those whose hearts were filled with anger and pride were able to cost countless good digimon their lives once again."

"Yeesh. What a mood-kill," Braon murmured. Arahon shot him a look that elicited a sheepish grin from the Justimon.

The Alphamon turned to Duroth and Arado. "What of the ones responsible?"

Aegyptu craned his head down from his lofty perch. "I have two eye witness accounts that say the ringleader is KIA."

"If they're your soldiers' accounts, how can they be sure it was the officer in charge who was killed?" Braon asked.

"Your apprentice, Braon. Strom Marocannus says that, while he was in their captivity, a Slayerdramon made it clear that he was the one in charge. Strom then said that he was the one who delivered the killing blow," the giant Spinomon explained.

"A Slayerdramon?" Arado asked, turning to Duroth, who nodded. "We corroborate that Strom's account is most likely accurate. Ishton Kirzarv, the one behind this rebellion, is a Slayerdramon."

Duroth nodded. "That, and we trust the words of an Avenger."

Commander Braon, however, looked concerned. "Strom?" he asked. "What happened to him?"

"Field Officer Ranney Nychus, Strom's friend and subordinate, said that their advance team was engaged in combat and overwhelmed. Strom covered the battalion's retreat and was taken prisoner in the process. A Pteramon of mine had relayed us a message from Strom to attack during the sandstorm and, when the remainder of the Desert Vanguard met up with us, Ranney came up with a daring plan to save him. He didn't give us a chance to say no before running off," Aegyptu explained with a slight grin.

Braon remained silent. Ajax took the opportunity to step forwards. "What do you plan to do with the perpetrators?" he asked Duroth and Arado.

"The prisons have been feeling quite empty as of late," Arado responded, smirking lightly. "I think we can find a way to fill them up again."

Duroth nodded. "I'm not in the custom of executions unless absolutely necessary. We will be reviewing the freshly taken prisoners and performing a full investigation. As promised, the ones who surrendered without fuss will receive lighter punishments."

"We'll let you deal with that, then, Duroth," Arahon Alpha spoke. "You've made it clear you have a radically different goal than those of your precursors. We can only be grateful for that."

Duroth smiled and nodded. "I'm glad we can all agree that peace is preferable to war," he replied. The Dorbickmon turned to King Aegyptu. "In a gesture of friendship and cooperation, I have summoned a team of Goldramon to help heal the wounds of your soldiers. It's but a small token... for I know it won't bring back the lives of those lost here today."

The Dorbickmon bowed his head, prompting Arado to do the same. "I offer my humblest apologies on behalf of both myself and the Dramon Empire. It wounds me deeply that my brethren have acted so horribly once again. It's inexcusable. I just hope that you don't think that all Dramon are like this."

Aegyptu sighed and nodded. "Thank you for your sympathy. You _have_ shown today that not all Dramon are miserable, bile-sucking newts. It can't have been easy for you to fight your own kind."

"Indeed..." Duroth replied, closing his eyes.

His MailBirdramon companion looked across the group. "We will withdraw from your territory with the prisoners as soon as we can move all of our wounded. I'm sure our presence here is making your troops uncomfortable."

Aegyptu responded with a growly exhale, not exactly disagreeing with what Arado said. "Of course we will have to have several official meetings about what took place here," he spoke.

Arado grinned. "Oh, I can hardly wait. Several official, bureaucratic discussions of what we've just been doing _here_ for the past hour," he replied, sarcasm soaking his voice.

"It needs to be done," Duroth concurred. "For appearances, if nothing else."

"Braon and I will need to get in contact with Terminus, Uriel, Castiel, Rhea, and the others, as well," Arahon spoke.

The Justimon in question was distracted, however. Though his eyes remained hidden behind his helmet, they were fixed on something off to the side. Commander Braon watched as Gapsar in his MasterTyrannomon form and Raizer the ZeekGreymon helped a wound-riddled Strom hobble towards where the Palaeozoic Sovereignty wounded were being tended to.

Strom was hardly able to support himself and his long neck was drooped. The Spinomon winced and looked to the left, where he saw Braon staring at him. Strom managed to give him a weak but warm grin. He saw Braon respond with a nod and a thumbs up before he was forced to close his golden eyes again.

Braon evenly turned back to others, who he had been half-listening to. "We can spare whatever medical supplies we have leftover from what Terminus gave us," he said.

Duroth nodded. "Reserve that for the Palaeozoic Sovereingty; we have more than enough Goldramon to tend to our troops," he explained.

Arahon Alpha nodded. "That seems to be enough for now. Duroth, Aegyptu and I can hammer out the details of the meetings and the official investigation."

"I have to go debrief with the Grand Marshal and Commander anyways," Arado replied, backing up and turning around.

Braon nodded. "Ajax, Onaga, Valkur, Kairi, Karmas, Osiris," he spoke to the Avengers who came with Arahon and himself upon hearing about the battle. "See if you guys can make yourselves useful somehow... And try not to pick any fights."

The Justimon then started to walk in the direction of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty's wounded.

* * *

><p>Strom's pained moans joined the chorus of groans and snarls that polluted the air. Off to the side of the open-air hospice (which was really an area of sand set aside for the wounded to lie down and be treated), the wounded Spinomon lay on his side and glared at the Goldramon, a golden, Eastern dragon who was pressing large bandages against Strom's wounds.<p>

"A little harder! Please! You might be able to touch bone this time!" Strom growled at the Dramon physician with a deeply sarcastic tone. "You're making this painful on purpose, aren't you? Just because I'm an Avenger."

"Avenger or not, it's my duty as a physician to heal you, not harm you," the Goldramon replied, veiled irritation in his voice at yet another difficult patient who he had to deal with that night.

"...Well you're sure as hell not doing a very good job in _that_ area," the dinosaur muttered.

The Goldramon's eyes began glowing and a blueish-silver wisp of power, in the form of a drake, emerged from the sapphire bracer on his forearm. The drake, Umon of Creation and the Blue Thunder, screeched and washed over Strom's body, swirling around his wounded form. Before Storm's eyes, data began to gather and his flesh began to mend. In a matter of seconds, his bandaged self was looking none the worse for wear.

Except for the scars on his palm.

"There," the physician said as Umon returned to his bracelet. "Now you may _look_ fine, but your data is still incredibly unstable and your wounds could reopen and bleed just by flexing a muscle the wrong way. You need to rest. Understand? I cannot emphasize that enough."

"And you damn well better listen to him, Strom," a light-hearted voice said.

Strom turned his head and saw Commander Braon walking over to them. "Braon..." Strom spoke, a tired grin on his face. "What are you doing here?"

The Justimon chuckled and stopped in front of them, putting his hands on his hips. "Apparently, you can't be trusted with anything! I leave you on your own for a few days and look what happens! You end up in the middle a would-be war," he said, grinning at his apprentice. "I swear, Strom, sometimes I can't believe your crappy luck."

A soft chuckle rumbled from Strom's dry throat. "I thought you didn't believe in luck, Commander..."

"Ah ah!" Braon replied, raising his metal index finger and waggling it slightly. "It's just 'Braon' now, remember? But you're right. I don't... though I'm not sure how else I can explain how you went home from one war only to end up in the middle of another conflict, get taken prisoner by Dramon a _second_ time and then get beaten within an inch of your life. Maybe that girl you had the hots for will fall head over heels for you; I mean, you're due, right?"

"Laugh it up, Braon," the Spinomon responded. "So... the Avengers were dispatched, huh?"

"Yep. Though it looks like it was for nothing," the Justimon observed. "It was over by the time Kairi teleported us here. Guess it took awhile for the word to spread."

"Excuse me," the Goldramon physician interrupted. "I've finished my final inspection of the Spinomon. He'll heal with rest, but there seems to be an abnormality. The aged wound in his hand. Umon wouldn't even touch it. It's as if the data around the wound is being rewritten by something."

"It burns on occasion... Intensely," Strom replied. "Should I be worried?"

"It's still in the healing process and shows no signs of data degradation, so I doubt you're in any danger," the Goldramon explained. "To be safe, I would have it looked at by another physician in a month or so. I recommend my colleague-"

"Thanks, but no thanks," Strom swiftly countered, souring at the idea of having to go into the Dramon Empire to be looked at by, who he assumed would be, a Dramon quack or a doctor who moonlighted as a torturer during the war.

"Of course not," the physician dryly answered. "Why would you?"

"Don't take it personally; he's like this around all doctors," Braon said with a grin. "I'll make sure he sees somebody."

"Glad to see you're still on _my_ side," Strom muttered sarcastically.

Braon grinned wider and turned back to his dinosaur apprentice as the Goldramon nodded at Braon and flew off to tend to another patient. "Like I told you before, I have your best interests in mind, Strommy." Behind the Justimon's helmet, his smirk slowly vanished. "Sooo..."

"...What?" Strom asked in a suspicious tone.

Braon moved his head so that he was pointed towards Strom's face. "I heard it was you who took down the so-called "Slayer Legion's" ringleader: Ishton something-or-other. Nobody I've ever heard of until now."

Strom frowned pensively and turned his eyes towards the star-littered sky. "...Yeah. It was me."

The Justimon grinned. "Well, congrats! Hell of a job, Strom."

It was evident by Strom's face that he didn't share Braon's merriment. "He said that I was just like him..." he rumbled in a brooding, pensive voice.

"...How'd he figure that?" the commander asked.

"The reason he started this war was out of vengeance for Gotungir, who was either his best friend or lover or _something_. I'm not sure. All I know is that it was out of more than just a soldier's devotion..."

"Gotungir...?" Braon asked, remembering the UlforceVeedramon, but allowing Strom to continue.

His gold eyes remained fixed on the stars, as if trying to find something in particular up there in the atmosphere. "...He told me that the Avengers were no different from them; they acted out of vengeance and so did we. Ishton also said that I was worse than he was. He was fighting in the name of somebody close to him... whereas I only fought because of my anger and pain at being betrayed," Strom explained grimly. "To be honest... not all of what he said wrong. I can't speak for the others, but... I know what _my_ reasons were for joining the Avengers."

"Oh yeah?" Braon asked matter of factly. The Justimon folded his arms and closed his eyes. "Well you're wrong. He _was_ full of sh*t."

Strom frowned and turned his head to look at him. "How do you figure?"

"The reason you left the Palaeozoic Sovereignty in the first place was for altruistic reasons. You were in a neutral country but you still wanted to help. And besides, you wouldn't go around killing Dramon civilians, would you?"

"If you or Ranney had been killed by the Dramon... I don't know..." Strom murmured, letting his words linger. "...How could either of us be sure?"

"Because you're a good digimon when it comes down to it. I know that if given the option, you'd make the right choice," Braon reassured him confidently. "Speaking of Ranney..."

The Justimon turned his gaze towards the DinoRexmon who lay not too far away. Strom followed his gaze and looked at Ranney, who appeared to be healing and was laughing with some comrades.

Braon grinned. "On my way over, I heard his recounting how he saved your and Gapsar's butt on a few separate occasions. He's not exactly modest, is he?"

"I'll kill him..." Strom spoke, though a tiny grin formed on his face.

Braon smiled. "I'm proud of you, Strom. I know it wasn't easy making up with him."

"Who says I made up with him?" Strom asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I can tell by looking at you. You have a look of hope on your face that I haven't seen on you in some time," the Justimon commander explained to his apprentice. "That, and the fact that you're not glaring daggers at him anymore."

The Spinomon grinned fondly, but quickly tried to cover it up. "Yeah, well... I can't exactly hate the guy who saved me, can I?"

Braon stared at him and suddenly laughed and shook his head. "You try way too hard, you stubborn bastard!"

Strom flushed a little, but allowed himself a grin. "Yeah, whatever... Don't you have a lot of politician-type stuff to do?"

"Hey now! Don't start throwing around the P-word at me," Braon retorted, smirking. "So you talked to him?"

Wit a sigh of resignation, the dinosaur nodded. "Yeah, I talked to him... After I punched him – sorry," Strom told him with a small grin, to which Braon shook his head in exasperation. The Spinomon looked back towards Ranney. "What he said was reasonable... but in the end, it was his actions that spoke louder than his words. He was trying so hard to make things right between us. I guess I finally let myself realize how much he cared when I saw the pains he went to for me."

"Yeah, well, this is one time where I don't mind saying, 'I told you so'," Braon smugly said.

Strom grinned reflectively. "Yeah... You did," he admitted. He looked the Justimon in the eyes. "You had me figured out all along... I _was_ afraid to get close to anybody that I didn't trust with my life. I used sarcasm and you were right with all that other psychological mumbo jumbo you were spouting. You were right and you know me better than I know myself."

"Yup!" the Justimon replied. "...And the reason I know you so well is because we're friends." He grinned reassuringly at him. "It wasn't the first time I've been right about you and it certainly won't be the last, either."

Strom laid his head down on the cool sand and relaxed under the shadow of the night. "Heh... Right..."

Commander Braon turned and started walking.

"I'm glad you survived," he spoke as he walked past the resting dinosaur.

After a few moments, Strom smiled contently, watching as the Justimon walked away from the wounded. "...And where are you going?"

Braon grinned and looked over his shoulder, answering with a playful tone. "Oh, I've got a lot of politician-type stuff to do."

Strom chuckled and closed his eyes. "Okay. We'll talk later after my nap. My body's killing me..."

The Justimon nodded and walked over to the Avengers, allowing his apprentice to succumb to a much-needed sleep.

* * *

><p><em>The next morning...<em>

The army of the Palaeozoic Sovereignty stood in rank and file before King Aegyptu, who stood eclipsing the sunrise behind him. His form was silhouetted by its fiery rays as he gazed down at his prehistoric digimon soldiers.

Only the Palaeozoic Sovereignty stood within the dry sand. The army of the Dramon Empire had left in middle of the night with their wounded along with the Slayer Legion prisoners. Duroth figured that the sooner they all left, the better it would be for everybody.

All was quiet with the exception of King Aegyptu's far-reaching voice. Even the wounded stood among their comrades. The ones who couldn't stand on their own were supported by those nearby. Each soldier stood straight in honour and respect as Aegyptu read from scroll in his claws, a list of names compiled during the night from eye witnesses and previous team rosters.

He slowly made his way down the list, patient and methodic as he performed the formal ceremony which followed every battle that the Palaeozoic Sovereignty fought.

"...Field Trooper Fenrog Ballastrov – Second Claw. DarkTyrannomon. Killed in action. Two rank promotion to Field Officer – Third Claw... Field Officer Gyraed Torge – First Claw. DinoTigermon. Killed in action. Three rank promotion to Field Commander for self-sacrificing heroics... Field Trooper Nelia Hizak – First Claw. Stegomon. Missing in action. Two rank promotion to Field Officer – Second Claw..."

King Aegyptu spoke with not a tone of sorrow, but one of thorough respect for each member of the dead and missing whose names he read. Due to the way that digimon died, with their data particles dispersing upon deletion, it is extremely hard to be sure of a missing digimon's status unless somebody sees them die with their own eyes. It's for this reason that digimon missing from battle are usually automatically considered killed in action, but unconfirmed.

Strom stood with pain and weakness still clinging to his body. He was supported by Raizer, the ZekeGreymon standing to his right. On his opposite side was Ranney, who stood to the right of Gapsar. Like their comrades, their heads were bowed in respect.

"...Field Trooper Barik Kur – First Claw," Aegyptu continued, "Spinomon. Killed in action. Two rank promotion to Field Officer – Second Claw... Field Trooper Grodek Cardias – Second Claw. Allomon. Missing in action. Two rank promotion to Field Officer – Third Claw..."

"...Sky Guard Sarki Atilus. Pteromon. Killed in action. Three rank promotion to Sky Captain for self-sacrificing heroics..."

Strom shut his eyes in a pained grimace. He ignored the flash of pain that surged from his clenched hand and stood in silent respect. "_Sarki..._"

Beside him, Ranney glanced at his friend sadly. He knew that Strom had become close with the Pteromon during his time back in the Palaeozoic Sovereignty. Ranney saw the expression on the Spinomon's face and then decided to place his clawed foot on top of Strom's, gripping it reassuringly.

Strom opened his eyes in surprise, looking down at his foot. He then turned to Ranney. Ranney gave him a sad smile and nodded, hoping to comfort him. A surprised Strom stared into his eyes for a few moments before finally giving him a short nod of gratitude.

Ranney removed his foot and bowed his head again, prompting Strom to do the same.

King Aegyptu finished reading the names from the list and he bowed his head for a few moments of silence. In those moments, not even the wind spoke.

The Spinomon leader then opened his eyes. "May our brave comrades be at peace. Without their noble sacrifices, we would not have won today. We will live on, into tomorrow, for their sakes, never forgetting their bravery and pride."

Many soft, sober growls of agreement resounded from the ranks.

King Aegyptu nodded silently. "And let us also respect the dead of those who came to our aid today, the soldiers of the Dramon Empire."

Fewer growls, some reluctant, murmured from the soldiers, but the response was still firm.

Strom merely gave a grunt of respect, but inwardly, he knew that they wouldn't have lasted without their timely intervention. He also knew that he had the Dramon Empire's new establishment to thank for that.

He didn't want to begrudge the Dramon Empire anymore... He made that mistake with several others already. However, it would take him some time...

That line of thought caused Strom to close his fists with determination. There was one more thing that he wanted – no – _had_ to do... It just depended on whether he could convince Braon to do a favour for him...

* * *

><p>The night sky loomed over the Dramon Empire's capital. The army had returned home and the Dramon Council had been nearly tripping over themselves dealing with the aftermath of the previous day's events. Finally, with the setting of the sun, things had more or less calmed down and fallen into order. The tendrils of war that had been gripping at the world once again were severed and everyone could begin to rest easy again... in theory, at least.<p>

Duroth relieved his bodyguards from their duties, politely shooing them off so that he wouldn't be disturbed. Erebus gave Duroth a short nod before sorely walking away from his employer, the red bandana from the battle still tied around his left bicep.

Duroth entered the sizeable bedroom of his. He closed the door behind him and breathed an exhausted sigh. The Dorbickmon high councilor took in the privacy of his large home. He was finally able to relax.

While Duroth hadn't necessarily underestimated the duties he would have by becoming the head of the Dramon Empire, they were still extremely draining to him, physically, mentally and emotionally.

The Dorbickmon gave a soft groan and undressed. He slowly pulled off his draconic armour with his tired arms, revealing the bandages tied around the nearly healed wounds on his chest and back. He winced slightly, but felt the pain quickly subside – a definite improvement from a few days ago, thanks to the healing skills of the Dramon Empire's physicians.

Duroth hung his spiked plate armour – consisting of the breastplate, gauntlets and leggings – on the armour rack beside his bed. Not wanting to do much else, he walked over to his bed, got on, and slid under the covers. As his sore muscles began to relax, he placed his clawed hands behind his head and looked up at the tall ceiling.

A cool, gentle, night breeze swept in from the open balcony opposite his bed. The cool breeze suddenly became slightly warmer as a large silhouette descended onto the parapet, blocking the moons and stars from Duroth's view. The Dorbickmon's gold and violet eyes calmly turned towards the wide opening.

Arado's form landed gracefully on the terrace. When he landed, he ceased the activity of the jet engines in his wings. He ducked his head under the opening, walked in, and closed the balcony's doors with his clawed tail. Upon entering the room, the MailBirdramon stood up fully and looked at Duroth with a tired smile.

"You're late," Duroth mused with a smirk. "That's very uncharacteristic of you."

"I know," Arado said, exhaustion mixed with humour in his otherwise calm voice. "There was so much to do. I have to give Imego _some_ credit; being Lord Protector is not an easy task."

"It's nothing you can't handle," the Dorbickmon replied.

"Try telling me that yesterday when I was nearly relieved of my best feature," the blue dragon retorted with a small grin.

"Your head?" Duroth asked.

"No. My tail."

Duroth chuckled lightly in response. Arado sat down on a large cushion on the floor nearby. Upon taking some of the weight off his muscles, he looked at his Dorbickmon friend.

"Well, Duroth, it seems like your plan worked. Nobody suspects a thing."

The crimson drake turned and looked at Arado. "You make it sound like a grand conspiracy, Arado..."

"Well, we did bend the truth slightly, just by painting the situation a particular way," the Lord Protector responded. "I'm not blaming you. It's just a necessary part of politics."

Duroth sighed through his nostrils. "I'm aware..." he spoke softly, looking back up towards the ceiling.

Arado frowned, stood up and walked over to the Dorbickmon's bed. "You're upset..." he observed.

"Perhaps," Duroth replied, narrowing his eyes a little. "...Did we – no – did _I_ do the right thing...? I can't help but feel like all of the deaths were my fault..."

"Don't be so arrogant," Arado told him with a soft frown. "I believe that you were right... Even if we _did_ capture Ishton after you talked to him, there still would have been a battle. The so-called "Slayer Legion" was a group of fanatical remnants. I'm sure that he had second-in-commands who would have pressed the attack anyways. Those digimon didn't die just because _you_ made a single decision..."

"I suppose, but-"

"But you still took advantage of the situation?" the MailBirdramon interjected rhetorically. "Yes, you did. You were acting strategically with the cards at your disposal in response to an unfavourable state of affairs. You were simply making the best of a bad situation, and, in my humble opinion, I believe you did a fantastic job at making us come out on top." Arado craned his head down in front of Duroth's. "What do you think Jormungand would have done had _he_ been in your place? We would be at war again and the death toll would have been increased tenfold. You, Duroth R'Daruuk, did the best that you could do and your ideals saved a lot of lives. That's what I believe..."

Duroth stared at Arado for a few moments before smiling gratefully. "Yes... I suppose you're right," he responded. His grin wavered. "Still, though... Many digimon died for no good reason, yesterday. The blame may not be mine, but it doesn't make the situation any less tragic."

"That's true..."

"I want a list of the dead and a list of the wounded tomorrow," Duroth told him.

"Very well, but you're due for a long and satisfying rest, Duroth," Arado replied.

The Dorbickmon glanced at him with a smile. "I'm not sure it's _that_ I want..."

Arado smirked. "I thought as much. You're going to have to work on your being so predictable, Duroth..."

Duroth chuckled. "Maybe you're right..."

Grinning fondly, the MailBirdramon looked down at him nodded. "To a brighter tomorrow," Arado spoke.

High Councilor Duroth smiled and nodded in response. "To a brighter tomorrow... Exactly how it should be..."

* * *

><p>"Move over."<p>

"No, _you_ move over!

"I can't!"

"Well neither can I! Your big butt's pressing me against the side!"

"Yeah, well your smell is going to kill me before we even get there."

"I think that's your own bad breath, Strom. I've seen it kill Numemon before."

"Shut up, you lizards! You're giving me a headache!" a loud voice rumbled from around the two dinosaur digimon. "Just sit still and be quiet!"

Strom and Ranney both growled and sat down on the metal floor of the dark compartment. They were in the interior of a GigaSeadramon: an amphibious, cyberbiotic, sea serpent digimon of the Dramon family which has the capability to transport large a capacity of passengers or cargo inside it.

Strom winced and places his head against the metal wall next to him. "Look, whatever your name is-"

"Barri," the GigaSeadramon corrected.

"Barri. Whatever. Why do you have to swim so far underwater? The island's not even that far from shore. Can't you swim on the surface? I'm getting a splitting headache from the pressure!"

"Hey, the only reason I even agreed to transport you two at all is because I owe Braon a favour," Barri replied, glancing behind him. "I'm risking my reputation by carrying an Avenger around."

"I know; you're such a saint," Strom muttered sarcastically.

Ranney, who was beside him, trying to move away from the Spinomon for personal space, was looking greener than usual. "Can you at least not move around so much? I'm not feeling so good..." the DinoRexmon groaned.

"I did warn you when you volunteered to come, Ranney," Strom said, looking over to him.

"Who would have thought being in water would make me sick? I mean, we drink the stuff!" he complained.

Their GigaSeadramon transport rolled his eyes and swam up to the surface. "You land digimon are all the same when you get in water," Barri mumbled. "If your friend pukes inside me, you're both cleaning it up with your tongues!"

"That's wrong on so many levels," Strom muttered.

Ranney groaned dramatically and placed his head against the compartment's metal side. "I hope this three day trip will be worth it for you, Strom..." he whinged.

The Spinomon rolled his eyes. "I wanted to come alone, remember? You're the one who just had to _insist_ on tagging along," Strom reminded him.

"Yeah, I had to keep you out of trouble," Ranney responded. "Plus I figured you could use the company."

"Well," he grumbled, "thanks... And for the love of the Sovereigns, keep your lunch down."

"What he said," Barri agreed. "By the way, why do you want to go to some tiny, no-name island off the coast anyways? There's nothing there aside from the view, but you could see from the beach. Are you going treasure hunting?"

"It's personal," Strom responded guardedly.

"Fine. Don't tell me. Just don't take too long," Barri grunted.

Strom went quiet and waited. As time passed and Ranney made idle chatter to take his mind off the silence and his stomach, the two scars on Strom's hand began to tingle. The tingle then began to turn into pins and needles. It gradually intensified from there.

The Spinomon grunted and held his pained hand with his opposite one. "_What the hell? Why is it hurting now?_" he wondered, looking down at it with a slight grimace. "_In the past, I noticed it would only burn when my emotions were running high. I thought it had to do with my blood or something. There's no reason why it should be acting up now._"

He raised an eyebrow in realisation. "_The Wyrmflame. Is it because I'm n-?_"

"We're here, lizards," Barri announced, slowing down. The compartment began to open from the side and the afternoon light shone in causing the pair of dinosaurs to wince.

They blinked the black spots caused by the brightness away and saw the shoreline of a small, sandy island. The surf calmly washed up on the shores, painting the sand brown before the waves were pulled back towards the sea again.

"Thanks for the ride, I guess," Strom said, stepping out of the GigaSeadramon and dropping heavily to the shallow water. His feet were sucked into the sand up to his knees, but he lifted his legs and pulled himself out, walking up to the shore.

Ranney took in an enjoyable breath of fresh, salty air, before jumping over to land on the sandy shore. He looked over at Strom, but the Spinomon's eyes were fixated on the middle of the small island.

Strom stared ahead of him, his emerald eyes burning brightly. His scars seared, seeming to intensify faintly when he took a step forwards. Ahead of him was a sword. It was erected vertically, the blade in the earth, stabbed into a rock on the sandy peak of the island. A gentle, azure flame flickered from the digital runes that were inscribed vertically down the length of the blade.

The runes spelled out a single word: Future.

Strom smiled fondly and walked towards it apprehensively.

"The fool," he spoke. A lighthearted whisper. "Even his weapon reeks of romanticism and poetry..."

Ranney frowned at his friend. The Spinomon was acting strange to him. Strom seemed both nostalgic and something else... "What is that sword?" he asked, being sure to tread cautiously with Strom, as the sword seemed to mean something important to him.

Strom approached the blade, ignoring the burning pain in his hand the closer he grew to it. "It's the Wyrmflame... Ragna's Wyrmflame..."

"Who's Ragna?" Ranney asked.

"One of the Avengers... He died in the final battle against Imego. Ragna and I... didn't always see eye to eye..." he recounted, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

The DinoRexmon nodded and backed off. He knew that this was something Strom probably wanted to do alone, so he walked back over to the shore where Barri was waiting for them.

Strom kneeled down in front of the sword. He outstretched his left hand tentatively. The scars flared up intensely, causing him to wince and retract his hand a little. He then glared with determination and reached forwards once again, taking the hilt of the sword in his left palm.

A pained growl ripped from his throat as he felt a torrent of power surge between himself and the sword. Strom grunted and retracted his hand feeling his veins pulsing with what he could only describe as something primal. He panted and looked down at his hand, seeing the scars burning a bright blue colour.

"Ragna..." he whispered. "_Are you still here somewhere? Somewhere in that sword?_" Strom asked.

"_Do you know what's happening to me? Or why these scars still give me pain? Is this karma for holding onto my pain and inflicting it onto others?_"

Strom grimaced and clenched his fist, his green eyes carefully inspecting the sword. "_You know, I never had the chance to apologise to you... And now I never will,_" he thought wistfully."_After all... an apology to a dead person is cheap. It means nothing..._"

He looked down at his clenched hand. "_All I can do is try to live like you would have wanted me to: putting the past behind us and moving towards our future. I can try to do that..._"

The scarred hand unclenched and its muscles relaxed. The bright blue scars had died down in their intensity. Strom gazed down at his palm thoughtfully. "_Sarki... Rai... Karasu... Valra... Ragna... I've changed, haven't I?_

"_No... I'm still changing... But... am I changing for the better? Can I really learn from my mistakes all by myself?_"

Strom turned his head to the side, looking behind him to see Ranney lightheartedly chatting with Barri. "_But I guess I'm not really alone, am I? I have Braon. And I have Ranney. I accepted him, so... maybe there is hope for me._"

The Spinomon placed his hand on the sword again, using it to help support himself as he stood. Strom stood up straight and looked at the Wyrmflame. "_I guess that battle proved Ranney and I's friendship, just like the final battle of the Civil War proved ours._"

Strom frowned softly and turned away from the Wyrmflame, looking towards the rolling oceans. The cobalt waves splashed against one another as they rolled towards the shores.

"Well, Ragna... everyone..." Strom whispered, his eyes staring into the sparkling water.

"The future awaits us." 


End file.
